Words
by chocolataulait
Summary: Story of how Rachel Berry lost herself in her plan of revenge against Santana Lopez
1. Words

"Whatever words we utter should be chosen with care for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or ill." Buddha

It's strange how simple words could have such a deep impact on our lives. We use them without really thinking of their power. They can be almost meaningless for the one that uses them, but terribly important for the ones that are confronted by them.

Rachel Berry was one of those people who knew too well how words could be important. She, actually, felt words pierce her skin almost as painfully as deeply sharp knifes every time she walked down the corridors of her school. She knew the scars of her pain weren't visible from the exterior, but she did felt them inside. Part of her could guess that the reason why she was hanging so fiercely to her ambitious dreams was that she needed them desperately to be able to stand her terrifying routine of constant humiliation.

Rachel was someone who craved for attention, acceptance. She had this strong need to be admired, but, sadly, she couldn't find it with her classmates at school so she had other ways of achieving it. Glee was the most perfect way of soothing her pain. It was, in a way, a compensation for having to suffer the torture of being at the bottom her high school social ladder. To her glee was a concrete example of how her life could be in the future if she continued to battle her way on the path that would eventually bring her to her goal. She knew how talented she was. She was strongly willed. She would surely make it and that thought was made her able to be happy no matter how hard her days could be.

Lately, it had been much harder to hold to her dreams of reaching perfection. Her boyfriend, her high school sweetheart, had broken up with her and no matter how much she tried to go back with him, it didn't work. It was hard because it made her realize that she could actually meet failure which was the thing in the world that Rachel feared the most. Facing the remains of her now completely shattered relationship, she was beginning to lose confidence. While she used to go to school with a large smile on her face knowing that no matter how rude her classmates could be to her, she would always have the fulfillment of her passion for music to brighten her day, now even that couldn't wipe the continuous mask of sadness she wore on her face. It was more than seeing her boyfriend taken away from her. It was also coming to realize that no matter how much she worked for things, they could be taken away from her in the quarter of a second it took her to blink. Even if one day she had it all, she could, by the next one, lose it all.

She had become numb. It didn't really matter anymore if she got solos or not in glee, or if she was the best of her ballet class, or if she was the first of her high school class. Something in her had broken. She had transformed into a lifeless puppet. People, circumstances, had become similar to puppeteers of her life pulling her strings in various directions that she did not choose, but she didn't really care anymore.

It was in this state that she dragged her feet down to Puck's house on New Year's Eve. He had decided to host a small party for the occasion and had invited the members of the glee club. She was walking up the driveway when she heard Kurt calling her name from behind her. She waited until he had caught up with her in his swift graceful way walking.

"I'm very glad that Puck decided to invite you as well, Kurt. I must admit that I was a bit anxious at the idea of having to spend the night only with people who despise me entirely not that I assume that you do like me, but, lately, I feel like we have reached a certain truce and, for that reason, it comforts me to know that you are there today."

"You're nervous?" He asked with a crooked smile.

"No, not really. I'm simply tired of feeling constantly pushed around and I have a feeling that this night will be, for me, the same as always which means exactly that."

He didn't answer. They walked in silence towards the front door of Puck's house. Kurt was the one to ring. They patiently waited for someone to come and open it. It was Finn who greeted them. Ironically, the memory of them singing _Don't Go Breaking my Heart _flashed through her mind as their eyes met. Seeing him awkwardly looking in her direction felt like receiving jab to her heart, she gave him a shaky smile and nervously pulled a dark strand of hair behind her ear. She sighed and licked her lips trying to find something to say, but nothing came to her mind. She felt paralyzed by the pain lying in the pit of her stomach. Everything was wrong, so wrong, because she had no control on anything that was going on.

When they got inside, everybody was already there. Quinn and Sam were curled together on a couch. Mike and Tina were sitting side by side on wooden chairs holding hands. Brittany was in Artie's laps her head resting on his shoulder. Puck was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room beer in hand. Next to him was Lauren staring at him while eating a chocolate bar. Santana was sitting alone on an armchair by the fireplace scowling like usual. Her attention was turned on her cell phone.

Rachel was about to do one of her customary speeches when Finn came into her view. He had three chairs in his hands and a blank expression on his face. She bent her head and glanced sideways better was she not to attract attention. She took one of the chairs and dragged it in a lonely corner of the room. She decided to install it as far as possible from Santana who she still resented, and, she had to admit, feared a little.

People were talking and Rachel was observing them in silence. Everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves except Finn who had a stern look on his face, Santana who seemed deeply bored or annoyed, and herself. Rachel thought it was pretty ironic that the three of them were coincidentally, or not, the most cheerless. They seemed to form an almost perfect triangle of quiet desperation. They were like the Bermuda triangle of sadness all the joy from the room seemed to disappear between their lines. She did not get though the shadow of misery in Santana's eyes.

The Latina had everything Rachel ever wanted and she loathed her for it. She had beauty, popularity; she even had had the solo Rachel deserved at sectionals and, worst than all, she had taken Finn's virginity. Santana merited none of it. She was a cruel person with absolutely no compassion. She was ruthless. She didn't mind to crush others to get what she wanted which sometimes was only to be amused.

Rachel hated her for that.

She hated her deeply.

The night went on. The group started playing drinking game and laughing out loud. At some point, Puck began to play his guitar and they sang along. Finn joined them. He soon was smiling slightly and seemed to be enjoying himself.

Rachel stayed quietly in her corner with her arms crossed. She noticed that Santana, at the opposite side of her room was mimicking her position. The other brunette seemed filled with frustration. Her lips were pressed in a thin line. Her eyes were staring firmly in front of her. It was one of the rare times that Rachel paid real attention to her and it was the first time that she came to realization that even monsters had thoughts and feelings like anyone else. At some point, the Latina's tan hands slapped her own thighs in a loud sound and she got on her feet.

"I'm going to use the bathroom. Britt, 'coming with me?" She asked to her friend walking towards her with her two hands on her hips.

"But I don't need to go."Brittany blinked a few times.

"We always go to the bathroom together Britt."

Quinn interrupted them impatiently.

"Just go with her Brittany. She obviously isn't able to go alone."

Santana glared at the head cheerleader. Brittany gave a quick peck on her boyfriend's cheek and walked towards her friend. The both disappeared into the corridor.

Rachel heard them walking up the stairs. When it seemed that it took more time than they should have had, she couldn't help, but feel curious.

It wasn't as if people would notice her absence. She discretely walked out of the room and went towards the upstairs bathroom of the house. She was reaching the top of the staircase when she heard some loud whispering which she couldn't clearly make out. She followed the sound to find the two cheerleaders in what she recognized as Puck's room. Brittany was sitting on a chair with her back to the door and in front of her was a furiously pacing Santana. It was pitched dark and Rachel knew that, if she didn't move, nobody would be able to see her.

"Come on Britt." She heard the Latina's shaky voice whisper pleadingly and it seemed off to their spy to be able to discern such vulnerability in her voice.

"Santana, no, I'm with Artie now." The other cheerio answered in her usual blank tone.

"It's just one kiss. It's not as if we haven't done more than that when you were with your previous boyfriends." Santana replied and Rachel could see that she had stopped walking and that she was now standing in front of Brittany with her arms crossed over her chest.

Rachel's long lashes fluttered. The two cheerleaders had a history? She didn't know that. It was probably one of those many things that everybody had heard of except her.

There was no reply, but Rachel saw the standing cheerleader bent forward and press her lips against the other ones mouth to be immediately pushed away.

"Britt, I miss you so much. Stop this thing, I got it, everything can go back like before." The Latina murmured her voice cracking.

"I don't want it to go back like before Santana. Your hurt me too much. We can't go back to how it used to be. It will never be like it used to be. Don't you see it? You broke it and it can't be repaired." Brittany said firmly.

"I could change. I could, really, I promise. I...I... wouldn't like for everybody at school to know, but, like, we could be out with the others in glee club. Would that be okay?"

Santana crouched in front of Brittany and placed her two hands on her ex-lover's knees. Even from where she stood, Rachel could see the pain in her eyes.

"San, no, it's too late. If you had told me that before I would have said yes, but not now." Brittany sighed."I used to love you more than anything. I probably will never love someone like I loved you, but I'm in love with Artie now."

"How can you say you loved me when you threw yourself at him after one fight? One stupid fight Brittany and you were all over him!" There was now anger in her voice.

"It's more than that San. You spend so much time thinking about yourself and your needs that you don't see what you do to others." Brittany said in a low voice.

"Britt, that's so not true, you know I care about you."

"That's not...I know that you care about me."

Brittany sighed and stood up. She took the reluctant brunette into her arms. After a few seconds, Rachel saw Santana's arms snaking around her friend's neck and her head falling painfully to rest on Brittany's shoulder.

"I'll still be your friend San. It just won't be like before." She rocked the brunette from side to side before backing up a little bit. She, then, giggled and cupped the Latina's face with both of her hands. "Don't give me that grumpy look Sanny baby."

"I hate you." Santana let out but there was a smile in her voice.

"Okay, one kiss, one last kiss, but I warn you there won't be nothing more."

With that being said, Brittany closed the gap between them and gently pressed her mouth on the other girl's. It was the first time that Rachel saw two women kissing and, strangely, even though she strongly disliked one of them, her heart was suddenly filled with a nervous form of excitation. It was nothing she had seen before. It was beautiful yet sad, soft yet passionate, sweet yet painful. It was feminine, delicate, and oddly romantic. Watching it felt like being part of a mysterious secret to which only lucky souls could have access. They broke apart and Santana's eyelids leisurely opened. That was when she eye locked with the girl spying on them. All the conflicting emotions that were battling in the Latina's eyes transformed into one of disdainful hate.

Fear overtook Rachel's body and, in less than seconds, she was running down the stairs. She re-entered the living-room. Her heart was racing and she was out of breath. Nobody even noticed her. Rachel realized that when she wasn't talking, she blended perfectly with the wall. She could have been invisible that it wouldn't have made any difference.

It didn't take long before the two cheerleaders were back. Brittany skipped childishly towards her boyfriend before sitting on him and nuzzling his neck. Santana crept behind Rachel and rested one of her hands on the singer's chair. Rachel stiffened when she felt the sombre presence behind her back. The muscles of her stomach contracted nervously. She held her breath. She was waiting anxiously for the Machiavellian scheme the other girl had planned for her. She was so exhaustingly nervous that she felt nauseated. She knew what Santana was able to do just because she disliked someone. She could barely imagine what could happen if she actually did hold a grudge against a person.

A strong hand suddenly grasped her shoulder and dark hair slid against her cheek and neck. Rachel shut her eyes tightly with apprehension. She shuddered when she felt the hot breath of a harsh whisper hit her ear.

"You think you're life is miserable? If you ever say something about what you saw, I'll make your life a fucking nightmare. Believe me; Holocaust will seem like a walk in the park compared to what I could do to you so you better shut the fuck up."

It was simple words, but, little did either of them know, that they would become the first gear motion of the strange turn of events that was about to happen.


	2. who are you not to be?

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

Actually, who are you _not_ to be?" Marianne Williamson

Rachel Berry spent the 1st of January in her bed staring at the ceiling. She didn't feel like exercising on her treadmill or practicing her singing like she usually did when she was in vacation. She didn't feel like posting a video of one of her performances on MySpace or planning her calendar of activities of the month. She didn't even felt like eating or moving. Somehow, it seemed now pointless to her. Girls like Santana would always be the one to win no matter how much girls like Rachel tried.

Santana could easily get away with terrorizing everybody because she detained all powers. In high school world she was a queen and an evil one as that. She was William McKinley High School's Queen of hearts. Wherever she would go heads would roll and everybody was too scared to contradict her reign except Quinn, but the beautiful Christian girl was no angel either. Actually, until not long ago, Rachel used to find the head cheerleader even worse than Santana but, due to recent events, she had changed opinion.

Rachel turned on her stomach and buried her nose in her pillow. Santana's voice came ringing back to her mind rising from the inmost depth of her subconscious.

"You think you're life is miserable? If you ever say something about what you saw, I'll make your life a fucking nightmare. Believe me; Holocaust will seem like a walk in the park compared to what I could do to you so you better shut the fuck up."

She felt like crying. She didn't want to go back to school and face her. It was not like the usual discomfort she had towards the idea of confronting her pairs. It was more than that. She was feeling sick of having to watch over her shoulder to see if someone was going to come and throw a slushy at her, of people continually talking down on her, and of constantly being subjected to awful pranks. The idea of now having Santana watching her from behind readying herself to attack at the slightest faux-pas was making her tremble with fear. She was pretty sure that the horrible paralyzing sensation of fear that had overtaken her body was similar to the one of a pray being thrown at a very hungry caged tiger.

What did girls like Quinn or Santana had more than her? How could they do all those awful things and still be admired by others like they did? Rachel did not understand. It reminded her in a way of the musical Chicago in which two murderess find a way to use their crime to increase their celebrity and become in that way famous singers. Was life the same? Did cruelty really engender popularity?

Rachel sat down and gave a circle look to her bedroom. She pitifully pushed herself out of her bed and walked towards her desk. She turned on her laptop and opened a Facebook page. She went on Finn's profile which was a daily habit she couldn't resist to accomplish. She laughed sombrely when she read the first message written on his wall. It came from Santana. It was filled with sexually charged comments. She sighed knowing that the message was displayed for her intention more than for her ex's. It was a not so subtle threat.

She couldn't help clicking her way to the Latina's page. Even though they weren't friends Rachel could see all of her profile pictures. In most of them the girl was exhibiting her body through the meaning of very short and tight-fitting clothes. In some, she was by the pool wearing a dark purple bikini in diverse very suggestive position. It was easy to tell that Brittany was the one that had taken this particular set because they were followed by few arm-length shots of both of them dressed in their swimwear. They were holding each other's waist while they winked, gave provocative stares, and sent kisses to the camera. All through that set of pictures, Santana appeared to be wearing a genuine smile on her face and in one of them, that had obviously been caught while she was off-guard, she could be seen looking at her best friend with large shiny loving eyes. It was strange to see her in that light. She seemed so far off from the Santana Rachel knew, so much less intimidating.

There was much older photo taken the previous winter that was particularly endearing. The two girls were dressed in their winter coats. The brunette had her nose buried in a large red scarf. Brittany was hugging her tightly with her eyes closed in contentment. She seemed as though she was pulling away from kissing her friend's cheek which had taken a wintery shade of red. Santana was grimacing funnily as if she was about to scowl and laugh at the same time. Her half closed eyes were secretly set on her friend's visage and Rachel could read such tenderness in them that it wouldn't have been touching if it had been coming from anyone else.

How could Rachel have missed that? How could she not have seen this obvious, but odd, love relationship right before her eyes? Surely others must have known. Their promiscuity made it hard to believe that they could have true love feelings, but when you took the time to look at them, which Rachel barely ever did, they seemed to be sharing a deep connection that exceeded the simple lines of friendship or meaningless sexual partnership.

At that moment, Rachel realized what made her different from girls like Santana. While she was trying to go through her day being, as much as she could, true to herself, Santana, her, would hide it all. With the exception of Brittany who really knew who the Latina was? Everything about her that wasn't socially acceptable was carefully guarded behind her dark manipulative eyes.

That was the key to popularity.

Being popular was not due to some natural talent. It was all part of a game with no moral boundaries. In it, people would lie with no shame, would cheat in ignominious ways, would betray their closest friends, and wouldn't mind crushing others under their steps on their path to the top.

It was an opprobrious game in which the rules were high school social norms and in which you could find people who were ready to do anything, literarily anything, to win. It was easy to remember, for example, how Quinn had dethroned Santana from her head cheerleader position at the beginning of the year by telling their coach about her summer surgery. Then again, there was that time, she now knew, where Santana had viciously taken Finn's virginity to get that same spot in their cheerleading squad. Although she did not know which one of the two was the most morally reprehensible, the second seemed to her far worst because it affected her.

Brittany was probably, in a way, the most intuitive player at that game. She had found her way to link herself to a stronger player whom she followed on her battle to take over the board game that was their high school without ever having to do the dirty work herself. It was, in Rachel's opinion, a pretty clever move for someone of her mental capacity when one thought of it. It showed that she was probably more intelligent than people would give her to be.

Rachel slid down her chair and closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped forward under the weight of her discovery. Why hadn't she thought of it before? She was always so busy thinking about her future and how to plan it that she never seem to see the evidence. If she was obviously failing now to construct a solid social network how could she do it in the future? She bit her bottom lip and started thinking very fast. If even Brittany could play that game, why wouldn't she be able to do it? The way she over-analyzed everything could and her strong determination could easily become important skills to play the game. What did she have to lose anyways? Everything had been taken away from her even her, even the strength that motivated her to believe in her childhood dreams, and most of that was because of Santana Lopez. If Rachel was able to find a way to become popular, she would be to socially powerful for people to terrorize her and probably that Finn would regret leaving her. Even more than that, if she did indeed reach that goal, she would earn Santana's respect and maybe, if she worked a little more, she could gain her trust. After, she could use it against her and socially destroy her. Santana would then know how it was to be at the bottom, how it was to be the one to be stepped on by people like her. It was brilliant when she thought of it.

Rachel opened a word document. She wrote a title at the top of the page.

Rachel Berry's secret plan of socially destroying Santana Lopez

She took a hairpin from a hair accessories leather case on her desk and started biting it nervously. Her plan had to be perfect because playing Santana was like with fire: very dangerous. She squinted and scrunched her nose. She took one last peek at the winter picture that displayed so openly one of the weakest sides of her enemy and it gave her courage.

**Part 1:** **Becoming popular**

_Step 1: Hide characteristics of my personality that people tend to dislike the most_

She stopped a moment to think. What did people criticized about her? Firstly, there were her speeches. There were always people to roll their eyes when she made one. Secondly, there was her controlling issue. Rachel had particularly terrifying memory of Santana launching wildly off her chair in her direction once when she had tried to coordinate Glee club. Thirdly, there was her dressing. People always made harsh comments about her choice of clothes.

_Step 2: Befriend "cool" people_

If she was right about step 1, step 2 should come naturally. With her new attitude people should start wanting to be her friend.

_Step 3: Become a Cheerio_

She was a talented dancer and was pretty skilful when it came to acrobatics. After following the first two steps, it shouldn't be too hard to fulfil the third one.

**Part 2: Gaining Santana's trust**

_Step 1: Use the fact that I now revolve in the same social circles as Santana to attend the same social gathering as her._

This one should be easy. It is the next one that was going to be much more complex.

_Step 2: Tame the beast_

It was hard to tell at that point in what way she would be able to accomplish it because she did not know the Latina well enough for that. In time, she would probably be capable to pinpoint how to approach this matter.

**Part 3: Socially destroy her**

_Only step: Use what have been learn during part 2_

Hasta la vista Santana Lopez!

**Part 4: Enjoy the position swapping**

Rachel smiled to herself. She saved her document and turned off her computer before running out of her room. She skipped happily down the stairs to eat a quick breakfast. She then stretched, opened the radio, and started training on her treadmill half-listening to the Pussycat doll song that was playing. Maybe she should have because it was ironically foreshadowing what would follow.

"...be careful what you wish 'cause you just might get it, 'cause you just might get it."


	3. I start from where the world is

"As an organizer I start from where the world is, as it is, not as I would like it to be." Saul Alinsky

Rachel Berry had always been a woman of dreams. Her head had always been up in the clouds. She functioned in a world of her own. She had been building her life around hopes and wishes. She would constantly be thinking of tomorrow because truth was that most of the time she couldn't stand the present moment.

Life was no dream; it was an outrageously continuous nightmare. Being hit by a car was the closest metaphoric equivalent of having to face its reality. Surviving the impact was life changing.

At times, it came in the form of a death. Others faced it through witnessing a horrible event or by hearing terrible news but, sometimes, it was something that seemed, to the observant, much less significant. For example, it could be the lost of a special object given by someone dear, a tear dropped by someone you always thought to be strong, the first appearance of a gray hair or, maybe even, the selling of a house. For Rachel, it had been simple words harshly whispered into her ear pushing her off the edge of the cliff she had been shakily dancing over for the past few months.

They had killed a part of her and like a phoenix a new one was being born out of its ashes. It was going to be, in appearance, a pretty one as that Rachel thought as she shyly blushed under the lustful stare of a group of teenage boys. On the last day before school started again, she had decided to go to the nearest shopping center to buy herself some new clothes that were more appropriate for the role she was about to take.

She had previously studied her school's cheerleaders' wardrobes through the meaning of her Facebook account. Most of them let their profiles opened. Rachel was pretty sure that the reason behind that was that they were too brainless to know how the privacy setting worked and, maybe, in some cases like in Santana's, it was out of pure narcissism.

She had decided to settle for a style that could be described as a crossover between the ones she had seen in her research. It was a bit plainer, in her opinion, than her usual attire. It was simple yet sexy and feminine. It was a little between Quinn's and Santana's way of dressing.

Rachel was, at the moment, wearing a low cut navy blue dress which beautifully embraced her body and exposed her graceful legs. She was shuffling through pieces of clothing when she heard two girls talking to one another in a conspiring tone.

"Have you seen her lately?" One of them said to the other in a high-pitched voice.

"Yeah, she was at Jack's party. She was drinking alone in a corner like some kind of loser. She threw up all over the bathroom's floor. I saw it after. It was so disgusting. Then, she started sobbing pathetically. Jack had to hold her up because she kept on falling to the floor. Can you imagine? At his own party!"

The other one squealed with delight. Rachel squinted and bit her lip. She was suddenly filled with the need of fulfilling an insane form of curiosity. She bent forward and tried to take a peek at the conversers. It was two fellow classmates: Meredith and Kelly. Both of them were Cheerios. They weren't the most popular of them all but they were cheerleaders nonetheless. She couldn't help but to step into their view and ask them.

"I'm sorry to interrupt but of whom exactly are you talking about?"

The two of them blinked a few times in a confused way before glaring at her.

"And who are you?" The one named Kelly asked her.

"I'm Rachel Berry. We attend to the same school."

Meredith scrunched her nose. Then, she turned towards her friend and spoke in a low whispery voice.

"It's that girl from Glee club."

"Oh! Right..."

"She doesn't look as bad as usual."

"Yeah, I like her dress."

Rachel sighed with annoyance. This was getting shockingly ridiculous. Were they always like that? It was unbearable. She was still going to have to become friends with them eventually.

"I don't know if you two realize but I'm right in front of you."

The two girls glanced at each other. Meredith smacked her lips together with a loud pop. Kelly brought her hands on her waist before shrugging her shoulders indifferently. Rachel chose that brief moment where she weren't ignored to remind them of her previous question.

"Who were you two chattering about?"

Meredith smirked which made Rachel realize that her peach coloured lip-gloss was disturbingly shiny. Kelly gave a devilish smile to her friend before beckoning Rachel to come closer. She brought one of her hands next to her mouth which was as equally glossy as her friend's in a phony attempt to muffle her words to the ears of unwanted listeners. She, then, said in a hushed tone.

"Santana Lopez."

Meredith giggled. Her excitation over the gossip seemed to erase any resemblance of her possessing brain cell. Kelly was not really better. She was fidgeting childishly next to her friend. What could possibly make them so happy about the pathetic state of Santana Lopez at a jock's party? It was sad more than anything else. Even Rachel had to admit it.

"It must be depressing, as friends, to see her like that."

The two girls stared at her incredulously and Meredith waved a mocking hand in the air as a way to dismiss Rachel's comment. Kelly rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak again.

"Why would we care about her? She's a total bitch. Even that dumb whore doesn't hang out with her anymore."

Meredith nodded before adding.

"I heard it's 'cause Santana slept with that crippled boyfriend of hers. It's like the worst couple ever. I really don't get it. He probable does her school work for her or something. You must now. You're in Glee with them. Is it true?"

Rachel suddenly felt her heart beating wildly in her chest. She bit her bottom lip as she thought of an answer to provide. Maybe she could say it was true. It was sure that most of the evidence pointed into another direction but Santana was cruel enough to do something like that. She wasn't really one who cared for others and she always seemed to find new ways to prove that the rumours regarding to her extreme promiscuity were true. On the other hand, it would probably be something quite malicious of her to say something like that. Although, when Rachel thought of it Santana would probably never have hesitated to confirm any nasty gossip about her. Actually, there were a high percentage of changes that she would have been the one starting it. It was like that with Santana. She had no pity for anybody. Why would Rachel have some for her?

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if she had."

The two girls smiled approvingly in unison. Meredith took out a lip-gloss from her pocket and applied to her already way to coloured lips. Her friend imitated her. Then they both looked at Rachel. Kelly rolled her eyes and extended her reddish pink lip-gloss to her. The small girl took it with a shaky hand. Being used to doing her own makeup for the diverse shows in which she participated, she applied it quickly on her mouth before giving it back to the cheerleader. Rachel wondered if this was a Cheerio was of bonding. The two girls were still standing in front of her. Even though she had already given them what they wanted, they didn't seem eager to go away. Maybe they felt like pursuing the conversation? She opened her mouth to talk but Meredith was quick to interrupt her.

"So what are you doing shopping alone like that?"

Rachel's eyelashes fluttered. She hadn't rehearsed for this eventually. She didn't think she would have to speak to a cheerleader before going back to school. Even if she didn't like to throw herself in such situations without practicing before, she had no choice but to use her natural acting talent for this sudden improvisation.

"I'm waiting for my boyfriend. He is going to pick me up in an hour or two. He told me he would call when he gets here." She said shaking her cell in a brief motion in front of the cheerleader's nose."His name is Stephen. You probably don't know him since he is currently studying in college. He is quite a charmer. I have a picture in my wallet. Do you want to see him?" She took out a picture of her cousin and her to show it to them.

Meredith took it nonchalantly and passed it on to her friend.

"He's kind of hot."

Kelly shrugged.

"Yeah, totally."

Rachel beamed. Her cheeks were a deep shade of red and adrenaline was rushing through her vein from the lie. It was much easier than she would have thought play the game, to pretend like them. Not only was it easier but it was exiting in a way. It trilled her to be regarded with respect by those popular girls. She was suddenly given power. Those two girls were listening to what she had to say for a change and the feeling was amazing.

"Wanna shop with us while you wait?" Meredith suddenly asked her.

"I would be pleased to." Rachel replied.

"Cool, you can totally tell us more about Santana and, also, about Brittany and her loser."

Rachel nodded. This was going to be a nerve-breaking experience. She was going to have to lie and manipulate them during at least an hour. Then, she will have to find a false-pretext to leave them before her fake boyfriend "arrived". It was making her anxious but that was exactly what she was trying to accomplish.

A brief flash of the scene she had witnessed at Puck's house came to her mind. She saw Santana's half-teary, half-angry, eyes looking desperately into Brittany's and a knot formed in her stomach. She suddenly had a vision of the Latina weeping in Jack's arms, barely able to stand up, and she felt guilty for an instant.

Then, she heard them again, those harsh words whispered in her ear and the feeling of culpability was washed away. She closed her eyes firmly, curled her fists and clenched her teeth.

Santana Lopez deserved no pity because she was, herself, pitiless.

The world was cruel, people were too. Why would Rachel be the one suffering from it? If she had to be cruel not to be the one who was constantly being tortured by others, she would be.


	4. Cruelty is fed, not weakened, by tears

"Cruelty is fed, not weakened, by tears" Publilius Syrus

The first day of school was cold and snowy. As she walked towards the entrance, Rachel Berry could feel a wintry wind shard the skin of her uncovered legs. How ironic, she thought, was it that winter seemed so beautifully romantic to one who was happy, but so painfully cold and lonely to one who was sad.

Categorizing herself as an optimistic, Rachel was usually one to be part of the first group. Winter was to her the most wonderful season of the year. She associated it with stunning sceneries of sparkling white nature. As a child, she used to consider the wind as a friend whispering its secrets to her curious ears. Sometimes she would lay under the night sky in her winter suit after a day of building snowmen or skating and her eyes would shine as much as the shimmering stars over her head. She would stay still letting the soundless night fill up her senses until one of her fathers called her from the backyard's door. Then, she would run towards the house with her heart beating as fast as the rhythm of her life running excitedly through her veins. She had tried more than once to share one of those moments with Finn. She tried to explain him exhaustively the beauty of her feelings in those briefly perfect instants, but he didn't understand. He was probably not even listening to her. He barely ever did. She could lie to herself and pretend that it was because he wasn't much of a listener, but, when she thought of it, no matter to whom she talked she was always alone with her own blabbering.

It was painful, wasn't it? How people could be surrounded by others, but always lonesome. Rachel would go through the halls of her school as a figurant to other people's life. She was as meaningless to them as the paint on the walls or the chair on which they sat as they let their teachers' word fly above their heads similarly to mosquitoes they were trying their best to ignore, but even those words were more important to them than her presence.

It was depressing how winter had now turned into the cold reminder of Rachel Berry's loneliness. Before opening the door that would lead her to the warm interior of her school, the small brunette took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She relished for an instant the excruciating pain of the icy temperature enveloping her almost frozen limbs. A small, sad, smile crept on her lips as she thought of how similar this sensation was to the one stabbing her heart. They seemed to complement one another perfectly and for a moment the tiny brunette felt whole.

"Just open the freaking door, Dwarf!" Santana hissed from behind her.

Rachel blinked a few times.

"Santana, the way you speak to me is entirely ina-"she started.

"If you're not going to open it, at least, move out of the way. We're not all stupid enough to stay in the fucking cold."

Rachel's hand slid off the door's handle as Santana pushed her to the side. The raging Latina gave her a scornful side glance before entering the school in a hasty way leaving the smaller brunette sadly standing outside.

The singer fidgeted and tears gathered to her eyes. Her hands nervously ran up in down the fabric of her white scarf.

"Hey you!" Meredith called her from behind.

Rachel quickly wiped her tears away and smiled at the Cheerio. Meredith was, in her opinion, a very plain-looking girl. Her hair was red and curly. Her face was covered in freckles. Her eyes were large and of a very pale shade of greyish blue. They frightened Rachel because they seemed expressionless most of the time. She couldn't tell if it was out of idiocy or of indifference. It was as if people around her could act nicely or cruelly without it making any difference to her. She secretly believed that the red-headed girl could witness a horrifying event occur right in front of her eyes without having any kind of feelings whatsoever. She would be happy to follow the lead of anyone, in good or in bad, because she was similar to an unquestioning sheep. She was as clueless as she was cold-blooded. She was a blade who belonged to any manipulative tongue that cared to use her. People like her were terribly dangerous because they seemed harmless to the inattentive eye, but through the hand of a skilful and ruthless mastermind they were the most important weapons one could have.

"Hey!" Rachel repeated forcing joy into her voice. "Guess who I just saw entering the school; she was alone as usual."

"Santana?" Meredith snickered.

Rachel nodded fervently.

"What a loser. That girl has seriously lost it. It's like she's trying to commit social suicide or something." The redhead snorted while pulling the door opened."What class do you have?"

"History, I find it fascinating how-"Rachel began.

"History? Me too!"Meredith squealed. "I think we're together."

The brunette smiled half-heartedly. It was the second time someone had interrupted her today. One was an enemy, the other one was a friend, but, strangely, she could hardly tell the difference between the two of them. Obviously, her new friend was one of those people who didn't want to hear what she had to say unless it was in her small range of interests.

They walked down the hallway. Rachel tried her best to measure up to the redhead's confidence and held her head up high. People seemed to be looking in her direction more than usual. Guys and girls parted in front of them. Rachel knew it was due more to Meredith's presence than hers. She enjoyed it nonetheless. It reminded her of that day where she had dressed similarly to Britney Spears in her_ Baby_ _One More Time _video, but this time it was filled with a new form of respect that wasn't there at the time.

Quinn raised an intrigued eyebrow as Rachel and Meredith passed by her locker. Mercedes gasped and started frantically typing a text message to whom the small brunette suspected to be Kurt. Brittany waved at her before hoping unto her boyfriend's laps. Finn frowned and Rachel smiled tentatively at him. He shrugged his shoulder and turned his head towards the opposite way.

When she saw them, Kelly ran in their direction her red skirt flying up and down as she did so. Rachel detected a few guys roaming their eyes up the oblivious girl's legs. She was about to sighed, annoyed by how innocent the Cheerio was, when she noticed the small smirk creeping on her face.

She knew.

The small brunette scoffed. The cheerleader wasn't the naive one, it was her. Kelly seemed to enjoy pretending being completely inoffensive while she was as calculating as any other popular girl. A bit more intelligent than her partner in crime, she had mastered the art of gossiping to hide the fact that she had nothing to say. Her beauty was an unusual one. She was half-Vietnamese and half-Caucasian. Her body was tall and her frame very fragile. Her features were an exquisite mix of sensuality and delicacy. Her hair was long, straight, and black. She moved with distinguished grace. Rachel had had a few classes with her in the past and she knew that the dark haired beauty dedicated more time to texting rumours than to listening to what her teachers had to say. Her tongue was as dangerously sneaky as a snake. She could ruin someone's reputation and less time than it took her victims to readjust a loose strand of hair.

"Apparently, Azimio slept with Karen. I was in the bathroom and I heard her telling Jennifer that he's a premature ejaculator. It's like the funniest thing ever." She said waving her hands in graceful motions in front of Meredith's greedy expression.

Trying to sound amused, Rachel exploded in a very loud laugh.

"That is incredibly hilarious!" She said and Kelly beamed at her.

At that very moment, Santana passed by the group of girls. Following the sound of their laughter, her head violently spun. She squinted and eyed her fellow Glee club member with suspicion.

"What's so funny?" She said. A polite smile was plastered on her face, but her tone had a hint of anger in it.

Meredith gulped.

Kelly's lashes fluttered.

"I you really want to know, Santana, Kelly was telling us about Azimio's recent erectile difficulties." Rachel replied in a sugar coated tone of voice. "Isn't funny?"

The Latina crossed her arms over her chest. Without breaking her bloodcurdling stare, she spoke harshly to the two other cheerleaders.

"Why are you two hanging out with that loser? She's in Glee club. You do realize how bad it is for your rep, don't you? "

Kelly snorted and glanced at her redheaded friend.

"You're in Glee club too, Santana. Does that mean talking to you might bring down my rep too?"

The fierce Latina glared at her. She seemed about to say something, but instead she bit her tongue and scowled. A brief emotion flickered across her clouded stare. Rachel eyes grew wide as she recognized it to be fear, but Santana was fast to get back on her feet.

"Ha! Ha! You're such a funny bitch, Kelly." She snarled. "You should watch what you say. You wouldn't like piss off the wrong person, would you?"

Then, she gave her a dark warning look and walked away. Rachel noticed that her hips were swaying in a more abrupt way than usual and that her hand was clenched tightly around the handle of her bag.

"I hope she wasn't talking about her. I'm so scared" Meredith whispered sarcastically into her friend's ear, but it was loud enough for Rachel to hear.

Kelly's blood painted lips smiled at her new friend.

It was vicious smile.

It was a cruel smile.

And Rachel smiled back.


	5. hate

"Those who hate most fervently must have once loved deeply; those who want to deny the world must have once embraced what they now set on fire." Kurt Tucholsky

It was funny how things could change so fast. A few weeks before, she had been a "nobody". To others, she used to be as uninteresting as the fading colour of McKinley High's classroom walls. She had, since then, turned into a social butterfly. Almost as popular as a Cheerio, she was invited everywhere. Girls now wanted to be her friend and boys were lining up to ask her on a date.

Coincidentally, Santana's popularity had been decreasing. The Latina seemed to be plunging into a self-indulged solitary confinement. Most of the time, she could be seen dragging her feet down the hallways. Her whole body seemed to project an aura of darkness. She was gloomy and always in her own little world.

It would have been perfect if it weren't for the fact that Santana was a fighter. She was a raging tiger. Even when wounded, she imposed respect. Girls were scared of her and, since her promiscuity level had gained a colossal escalation, boys still whistled when she passed by them. Even in her despair, she was devastatingly beautiful.

It was ironic, Rachel mused, how the heartbreaking young woman was probably acting in that was because she was heartbroken herself.

The scheming singer had noticed how sometimes, when Santana thought no one was looking, she would look at Brittany and Artie's displays of affection. Her eyes were charged with regret. Her mouth would twitch nervously. And, occasionally, her forehead with crease with what seemed to be disgust, but what Rachel now knew to be inner-sufferance. Then, her body would stiffen. She would rise her chin up and look sternly in front of her. Her visage would become a wall of impassibly.

At times, Rachel would pity her. All thoughts of vengeance would fly out of her mind and a rush of compassion would take over her heart. It would last for a minute or two, but Santana would glare at her or throw one of her snarky remarks and the feeling would go away.

It was easy to hate her. It was almost as easy as it had been to love Finn or maybe even more.

It was turning into an obsession. She would think of her vengeance constantly. She would think of Santana constantly. She was everywhere in her mind.

She knew her habits perfectly. She knew her class schedule by heart. She knew that at the end of each class she would go to the closest bathroom to readjust her hair and makeup. She knew who she thought was cool and who she thought was not. She knew to whom she liked talking and with whom she was sleeping. She knew how she would often grunt through her teeth when she was sad. She knew how she would be snappier when she was mad. She knew the way she would like to stare out the window when she was bored. She knew that, even though she was pretending not too, Santana listened to what her teachers had to say and when she found it interesting her feet would sway in a childish back and forth motion.

Indeed, Rachel knew a lot of things about Santana Lopez, but the most important thing she had learned thorough her observation was that she was, like any other human being, fallible.

She had flaws.

She had secrets.

She had fears.

She was like everyone else and like everyone else she could be broken.

Rachel was proud of herself. The pieces of her plan were slowly falling into place. That morning, she had approached coach Sylvester about hoping to be given the opportunity of making the cheerleading team. The fanatical woman had answered that she would further the question of her trying out for the Cheerio team when she had more time for it. She apparently was, at the moment, busy plotting against the football coach whom, it was well known, she hated. The fact that she hadn't been completely turned out was, in Rachel's opinion, a very good sign.

When she had told them about the possibility of her joining the team, Kelly and Meredith had, of course, squealed over the news. They were as unexciting as they were useful. Rachel still pretended to like them as mush they probably pretended to like her. During lunch time they spoke about various important issues which turned mostly around whom should date whom and whom shouldn't. Trying to escape the unbelievable dullness of her social duties, Rachel excused herself.

"I have to go to the bathroom." She said before swiftly walking away.

Shaking her head to chase a headache away, she pushed the bathroom's door opened and was met with an unexpected vision. There, next to the window, was Santana looking in a forlornly way at the twirling, dancing, battling, sea of snowflakes. Her temple was pressed against the cold hard brick, her eyes were lost in despair, and her pearly white teeth were chewing nervously unto her strawberry bottom lip. Rachel was fast to notice that she was listening to music, a sad song judging by her facial expression, which explained why she hadn't reacted to her entrance. The room was terribly cold and, even though the Latina had unconsciously wrapped her arms around her own ribcage, she was shivering. Her right foot was leisurely running up and down her calf as a poor attempt to raise her body temperature, but Santana didn't seem to care about her frozen limbs, more than that, she didn't seem to notice her body state. She was so far off in her thoughts that the exterior world didn't seem to affect her.

Rachel flushed. She felt as though she was interrupting an oddly intimate moment. She was about to leave when a whispery voice stopped her.

"You think I haven't seen you?"

The small singer exhaled a breath she didn't realized she had been holding. She looked back at Santana. The sad-looking brunette had shifted position and was now standing with her back against the wall. Her ponytail was compressed against the wall which was messing her usually perfectly neat hairdo. Her eyes, now set on Rachel, were puffy and red. Her lips were swollen and, even if a fair amount of makeup was trying to conceal it, an obvious lack of sleep could be discerned by the large blue rings under her dark brown eyes.

"You seemed like someone in need for some time alone." Rachel replied with cautious apprehension.

Santana snorted darkly.

She brought her hands together and started rubbing them roughly against one another.

"This school is so cheap. It's like there's no heath. It's so freaking cold in here."

Rachel smiled hesitantly. What Santana was telling her wasn't exactly nice, per se, but it was kinder than her usual biting comments. It almost seemed as an attempt to engage into a form of dialogue.

"I know!" She answered in a similarly frustrated tone. Through Kelly and Meredith's contact, she had gotten used to those type of interactions and it had made her discover that the best way to be liked was to pretend to be deeply invested into others conversation.

Santana shrugged her shoulders before disappearing into a bathroom stall. She came back a few seconds later with a piece of toilet paper. She opened one of the sinks and imbibed the paper with water. She, then, closed it abruptly and proceeded into wiping off the smudges of mascara under her eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"She suddenly stopped and her gaze shifted into Rachel's direction." It's creeping me out."

"You look..." Rachel realized she couldn't use the qualifying words that came to her mind which were "miserable", "lonesome", or even "exhausted". She stopped on her trail and bit her lip. "You look like you're freezing. Would you like me to lend you my jacket?"

Santana huffed. Her tongue slid anxiously across her lips and she looked thoughtful for a moment.

" 'Kay, I guess I wouldn't mind. You sort of improved your wardrobe lately." She said with a crooked smile.

Rachel unzipped her jacket and handed it to the other girl. Santana grasped it greedily and soon she was analyzing from every angle the effect it had on her figure. Then, she smirked, walked towards the door, and opened it.

She paused into the doorway.

"Thanks." She said briefly before disappearing into the hallway.

Rachel watched her go with a slight smile on her face. She had to admit that part of her admired the Latina. Even if her social status was sinking, Santana still walked with her head up high.


	6. the magic of first love

"The magic of first love is our ignorance that it can ever end." Benjamin Disraeli

Rachel was hypnotized by her own reflection. Her dark brown eyes were staring at her, like those of a stranger, in the mirror. She was wearing the colors of McKinley High's cheerleading squad and somehow seeing herself in that way was overwhelming her. She ran her fingers over the red, black, and white fabric.

When coach Sylvester had handed her this simple uniform, a new sense of power had been bestowed to her. She now seemed stunning. Her dark hair seemed to shine healthily under the last beams of the setting sun. Her eyes, filled with self-confidence and with a certain awareness of her own beauty, were striking. The lip-gloss on her lips made them seem more full and sensual. She looked alluring all of a sudden and it made her glow.

She blushed.

Her hand went to her cheek and she lowered her eyes intimidated that she was by her new self. She could have stayed like this for hours, but the sound of someone ringing at the door interrupted her self-gazing.

"Rachel, it's for you!" One of her father shouted from down the stairs.

Meredith and Kelly had probably heard about the news and had come to her house to congratulate her. Rachel smiled broadly, gave a last glance at her reflection, and winked at herself. She ran excitedly down the stairs and was confronted with the most unlikely visit she could have had.

Finn.

She gasped when she saw him sitting on the couch, looking anxious. Her prince charming was there waiting for her. Maybe had he fallen out of the spell thrown by that evil witch Santana? Maybe was he there to come and claim her as his lady? Maybe her new popularity had made him regret his decision to leave her?

"Finn?" She said, her voice sounding squeaky. "What...What are you doing here?"

"You're a cheerleader now?" He replied seemingly dumfounded.

"Yes, yes, as from today, I am part of the cheerleading team. Isn't great?"

Finn frowned. His eyes travelled from side to side and he stood up clumsily.

"Yeah, about that..."He gulped nervously."Rachel, what's going on? I spoke to the other members of Glee club and we sort of agreed that someone had to come and talk to you. You're different..."

"I don't understand what you're referring to. Would you like some water or some cookies? I made some cookies today. I assure you they are succulent."

He opened his mouth to answer, but, before he could say anything, Rachel was out of the room and running into the kitchen. Her heart was racing and she knew her cheeks were flushed. She went through the cupboard over the sink searching for a glass. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. They suddenly seemed like an alien extension of her body. She stopped moving. One of her hand slid off the cupboard and pathetically fell unto the counter. She took a deep breath trying to regain control over her body, over her emotions.

She couldn't do it.

Instead, she let out a throaty sob. Tears started pouring down her cheeks. She shuttered and brought her second hand to her now running nose. Obviously, Finn wasn't there to declare her his undying love. He was there to criticize her. How could she have believed it could be something else? How could she have thought that he was there for her? He was there to judge her like he always had. She wasn't good enough for him.

She wasn't...

She wasn't Santana.

When he slept at night, did he dream of the intimate moment they shared in that motel room? Did he think of her luscious lips? Of her perfect body? Did he remember how she touched him? How she had loved him, loved his body, made love to his body?

Rachel hated her own imperfection.

She hated her own physical appearance, her not-good-enough physical appearance. She clenched her teeth and wiped her tears. It didn't matter. It didn't matter anymore. She didn't care about Finn, did she? It was his lost after all. More and more guys desired to be involved into a romantic relationship with her. Maybe he was just jealous? Maybe that was the real reason why he didn't like her ascension on the high school scale of popularity.

She licked her lips.

They tasted salty she noted with a bitter smile. She wiped her tears and sniffed. Her eyes explored the room for a box of Kleenex.

She didn't find any.

Evidently, it was Murphy's Law. Everything that could possibly go wrong was going to go wrong. She sighed and walked to the cookies that were on the kitchen table.

Finn loved her cookies...or used to love them?

She gripped the box firmly and went back into the living-room. With a fake smile on her face, she extended it to her ex-boyfriend.  
"Thanks." He whispered as he took the largest cookie within his reach.  
He ate it quietly while the talented singer looked at him. There was an awkward silence between them. Tension filled the room. Rachel had to bit her bottom lip to hide the fact that it was quivering.  
"Isn't delicious? Do you like it? Would you like a glass of soy milk to go with it?"  
Finn shook his head from side to side.  
"No, Rachel, stop."  
The small brunette took a large intake of breath. She sat on a low table in front of the couch and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes on the floor, she waited for him to speak again.  
"Rachel, you're...I'm not really sure what to say. You're not the same. You barely talk during Glee. You've been spending all your time with Kelly and Meredith and from what I know of them they're not really nice girls. I don't understand. It scares me." He scratched his neck anxiously. "And now you're a cheerleader."  
"And you're a football player Finn." Rachel shrieked. She didn't feel well.  
"That's it? That's why?" He replied a bit aggressively. His features were scrunched in a way confused that the small diva had always found absolutely adorable.  
"No, it's not that. Finn, I have my reasons. It's not all about you. "She stopped on her trail. She was feeling as though the air in her lungs was constricted. Her lashes fluttered as she tried to breathe normally. "Why wouldn't I want to be popular too? Maybe I'm tired of being always left out. Why wouldn't I want to form intimate relationships with other people than you? I want friends, people with whom I can share thoughts and feelings. I don't want my life to be a prison of solitude, of isolation, of loneliness. Have you ever had the sensation that, instead of living your own, you were observing other people's life through the meaning of a window? I do Finn, I do, all the time."

Finn stood agape. He looked a bit like a child confronted to a reality he could not understand. His eyes were bulging out of their sockets as he tried to find something to say.

"Rachel, you don't have to do this. You have friends. The people in Glee club, they like you!"

His ex-girlfriend frowned. She turned her stare out the window. A group of friends were walking on the sidewalk across the street and she watched sombrely as they stopped to talk under a flickering lamppost.

"Don't be preposterous. We both know that's not true. Santana is right. They just pretend to like me."

"Her? Again? I can't believe you're still on that." Finn sighed. "Get over it. It's turning into obsession."

Little did he know how his choice of words had been effectively appropriate under the circumstances, but the real problem was that Rachel didn't know it either.

"The status of the present conversation leads me to believe that it won't get any better so I will pleasantly ask you to leave my house."

Finn nodded.

"Okay," his shoulders slumped forward, "okay."

She walked him to the door. He slowly slid his boots on. Then, he straightened his back. His gaze was unstable and he kept on shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Suddenly, he bent forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Rachel, if there's ever something going on, I want you know I'm there, okay?"

She smiled weakly.

"Okay." She murmured even though she knew she wouldn't do it.

She closed the door and watched him go as he walked through the night. It was a habit inherited from the days where they had been a couple, the only different being that this time, instead of jumping wildly in her chest, her heart felt as cold as death.


	7. Reality is merely an illusion

"Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one."

- Albert Einstein

At times, Rachel felt as though her life was a dream and, lately, it seemed to occur more and more often. When she spoke, it seemed rehearsed. Words she employed seemed to be the ones of a stranger. Sometimes, she wondered if she even existed or if she only was a body, a charnel envelop, a ghostly figure walking through the hallways of her life wishing desperately to be able to live again.

Her life seemed to be nourished by her new obsession. It wasn't the same as living again, but it gave her a reason to wake up in the morning and dress in her ridiculous cheerleading outfit. It gave a meaning to whom she had become and to the way she acted. Her obsession and her persona had merged into this character that people, with the exception of Glee club, seemed to like better than her former self. It amused her in a dark kind of way.

It was her obsession that had led her to hide behind the gymnasium's door after cheerleading practice. Quinn had asked Santana to stay. She had said that she wanted to talk to her and Rachel had been curious to know why.

"I'm so tired of you contradicting every single decision I make." Quinn's voice reverberated loudly on the walls.

Rachel could see the head cheerleader from where she stood. Hands on her hips, her whole demeanour or seemed the one of someone highly frustrated. Across from her was Santana staring sternly at the floor with her arms crossed over her chest and her jaw tightly clenched. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and she was wearing her usual scowling mask. It was obvious by her facial expression that Quinn's words were flying right above her head.

It was true, Rachel had noticed, that the Latina would often criticize Quinn's choices. It seemed that months after the incident, the dark haired beauty had not yet forgotten the vicious plan that had been orchestrated by her substitute in order to take her place. How infuriating this situation had to be? She had to work under the command of someone who had pushed her down to get where she was. How many times Rachel had seen the fierce Latina bite down on her tongue, to bite down her own bitterness, to stop many snarky comments from slapping the one who had ripped her title out of her hands?

Irritated by the other girl's silence Quinn clenched her teeth and hissed.

"You've been losing it lately and coach is thinking of kicking you off the team. If I were you, I'd lay low."

Santana opened her mouth and squinted. Instead of speaking, she sighed and sat down. Stretching her limbs lazily, she stared at the other girl for a minute or two.

"Do you remember when we used to be friends?" She said in a strangely nostalgic whisper, her eyes peering into the head cheerleader's ones. "We used to go to your house after cheer Brittany, you, and me. We'd just hang out and we were like: "we're going to be best friends forever". We'd just talk about boys, watch movies, eat popcorn...and you were all:"We shouldn't!" Then, I'd be:"Oh come on! It won't kill you." In the end you would always say yes. I really did consider you as a friend. It's crazy, now, we hate each other. Who would have thought?"

Rachel shook her head sceptically from her hidden spot. Surely, Quinn wasn't going to fall for this obvious trap. None of the emotions Santana expressed were real. She was cold and manipulative. Nothing she said could be trusted

"It seems so far away." Quinn smiled a little bit. She chuckled. "Remember that time when we were little. You wanted a cat so badly, but your parents wouldn't let you. And this one day, we were at the park and you found this hideous lost kitty under a bench. You decided it had to be yours. We ran all around the playground to capture it and, then, trapped it in a box. You told me we would keep it forever, but our parents found out the following week and sent it away. What was its name again?"

Santana laughed out loud and, for a second, her hand reached for Quinn's in an affectionate manner, but then she seemed to remember that they weren't friends anymore and it dropped loudly unto her lap. She bit her lip and her fingers played dreamily with the fabric of her red Cheerio skirt.

"We called it Andy." She murmured, more to herself than to Quinn. "After we found out it was a female, but by then it was too late. We were so used to its name that we never changed it."

Silence fell upon them. It seemed rid of all tension. It was easy to see that they were both elsewhere, in the past to be more exact. They were in a world of childhood memories where hypocrisy and ferocious competition did not exist, a world where ambitious girls like Quinn and Santana could be friends without fearing one another, a world where everything was so much simpler, so much easier, a world that no longer existed.

Rachel held her breath as the strange shift of atmosphere seemed to travel its way into her heart, making it beat strongly inside her chest. She felt compelled by this moment they were sharing because she knew so well how they must have felt. Hadn't she moulded herself into a shape that wasn't hers to please others? Wasn't she trapped, like them, in a role that was far from her true nature? The world made no sense if people had to destroy precious friendships in order to fit in. It hurt Rachel, she didn't know why, but it hurt to see the distance between them.

She shook her head and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of melancholy that was settling into her heart. She took a few steps backwards and ran towards the locker-room, trying to erase the sudden fear that had been awakened in her. When she got there, she gathered her clothes as fast as she could. Within minutes, she was fully dressed and ready to go. After one last glance at the mirror, which revealed her that her cheeks were flushed with shame and her hair was sweaty and messy from cheerleading practice, she walked towards the door. She was reaching for the handle, when someone opened it from the exterior.

"Leaving so soon?" Santana asked her in a neutral tone of voice.

Rachel fidgeted anxiously. She couldn't tell what the other brunette was thinking because her visage was expressionless.

"Well, I do not think that "soon" would be the appropriate word under the circumstances." She replied matter-of-factly. "All the others already left."

"Except Quinn, you, and I. What a strange coincidence." Santana said sounding suspicious. "What were you doing?" She sighed. "Spying on us? You should stop that. It's getting really disturbing."

"I just-"

Santana interrupted the smaller girl by waving her hands impatiently in front of her.

"Save it. I don't care."She rolled her eyes and sighed. The brief breach through into her armour had closed again.

Since she expected the conversation to be over, Rachel tried to leave the room, but Santana extended her arm forward, her hand hitting the doorframe with a loud thump. The small singer blinked a few times, apprehending what horrible idea could be dancing into the Latina's mind. With her eyes opened wide she stared at the flesh barrier stopping her from running away from her captor.

"Quinn asked me to put away the equipment we used." Santana tilted her head and snorted. "You're going to help me Berry."

"That sounds more like an order than a demand." Rachel answered sarcastically.

"For someone who's just been caught in a compromising situation, your tongue is pretty sharp." Santana mocked her before adding a little bit more nicely. "I don't want to do it alone. If we do it together it'll go much faster. It's already late and I've got a chemistry exam tomorrow."

"I didn't know you were one to study." The small brunette replied half-contemptuously, half surprised.

Santana shrugged her shoulders.

"Well," she squinted and started walking back towards the gymnasium," there are a lot of things you don't know about me." She gave a quick glance over her shoulder and smirked. "Coming?"

Rachel blushed and ran the distance between them. Somehow, she had the feeling that her plan of revenge would make he follow paths she would never even have dared to expect to come across.


	8. numb

"If people can't deal with their problems, they numb themselves a little bit." Kevin Nealon

Rachel knew no more pain but she knew no joy either. It seemed as though everything had lost its meaning. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, after turning and tossing in her bed for countless hours, she would get up, walk to the bathroom, take a razor blade, lift her pyjama shirt, and cut herself…

Feel something.

That was all she wanted. She wanted to feel, to feel again because she didn't anymore.

At first, she would graze her stomach with her fingers. Then, she would press the cold metal against the pale surface. Her eyes would grow wide as small lines of blood would appear on her skin. Tears would prickle her eyes but she felt no pain. No pain or maybe she felt too much. She couldn't tell anymore.

She had become numb. The only thing she knew she could feel was hate. It was there in the blood tainting the wet clothe she was pressing against her skin.

Santana and Rachel were now in speaking terms. It seemed that popularity was the key to winning the Latina's respect.

Now, she would acknowledge her existence by a brief head nod in her direction when she crossed her way.

Sometimes, when they were alone, she would stop and exchange a few words with her.

Once, Rachel was almost going under a panic attack because she couldn't find her pencils and Santana had come to her rescue by lending her one of hers. They had shared an awkward smile afterwards and the small singer had been too stunned to be able to concentrate on her math test. She had glanced a few times in the Latina's direction, as she was trying to figure out what was going on, only to be glared at by their teacher.

"If someone is caught cheating that person will have a zero." He had said.

Quinn too seemed to interact more and more often with her old friend since that talk they had had after cheerleading practice. Rachel had noticed that, if they weren't exactly what could be said friends, they would still speak to one another from time to time and Santana had taken the habit of sitting next to the head Cheerio when they were in Glee club.

Without turning into a social butterfly, Santana was obviously becoming more socially active. She was not happy but she seemed less depressed which was something Rachel couldn't stand. It seemed to her that it was not fair that the other brunette could recover of her pain while she couldn't.

Kelly and Meredith's presence seemed to be getting more unbearable with time which had to be an exploit. Rachel would block out all of their conversations merely nodding when they paused to take their breath. They were uninteresting, boring, annoying, and almost frustrating. Their voices sounded like the ones of crows screaming above people's head as they flew by with their gossips.

"You shouldn't hang out with them." Santana had told her once while applying lip-gloss on her lips in front one of the bathroom's mirrors. Rachel had known were to found her since she was always applying makeup or fixing her hair after class. "They're annoying as fuck."

The Latina had turned into her direction with a slight smile dancing on her lips. One of her eyebrows was raised as though she was waiting to be challenged. Rachel hadn't been able to hold back a chuckle. Somehow, it seemed funnier when the other girl's cruelty was directed towards people she disliked instead of her. Santana had snorted proudly in response before lightly brushing Rachel's forearm in an almost friendly gesture.

"See you in Glee!" She had thrown over her shoulder before leaving the room.

Finn, on the other hand, was completely ignoring her. When she would pass by him, he would look in the other direction. She had tried to have a conversation with him once. She had stopped him in the middle of the hallway, taking him by surprise, and had dragged him into a classroom.

"Why are you running away from me?"

He had fidgeted like a child. He always did so when he was uncomfortable.

"I just want…I want my Rachel back." He had told her uneasily.

"I am Rachel." She had replied to him.

"I want the old Rachel, the one with the argyle sweaters whose passion is to sing not to be popular. I know she's there under that cheerleading uniform." He said in one breath. "I miss her. We all miss her."

"Who misses her?" She felt angry. "This week, for the first time, Quinn smiled at me. I went shopping with Mercedes last week-end. Apparently, she suddenly realized that I "ain't so bad after all" when I "shut the hell up". Who misses me Finn? Who? You? Let me laugh! Why did you leave me if you liked me so much?"

"Rachel! You know it's not-"

She had stormed out of the room before hearing the end of the sentence. Tears were pouring down her cheeks. Nothing made any sense. She was popular. She wasn't supposed to feel sad or angry. She was supposed to be happy. Even though it wasn't something she did as regularly as she used to, she ran towards the choir room and sat at the piano. She played her pain, she sang her pain as she cried and cried and cried for what seemed eternity.

"Hey!" A small voice interrupted her at some point.

Rachel had wiped her tears and turned on herself to find Brittany standing in the doorway.

"Are you crying?" The tall girl asked her softly.

"No…" The small diva replied shakily.

"Oh! You're just like San. You don't like people to know what you're feeling." Brittany replied with a large smile. "It's so adorable!"

"I'm not like Santana!" Rachel spat viciously.

"Well, with that Cheerio uniform, you kind of look like her from behind. That's why I came in actually I thought it was San but then I remembered she doesn't play piano so it didn't make any sense."

Rachel huffed.

"I thought you two weren't speaking anymore."

Brittany lowered her gaze. She opened and closed her mouth a few times. Her face turned into a frown and her arms crossed gawkily over her chest.

"You're right. That's why I was just planning on watching her." The words seemed to catch in her throat. "She doesn't want to speak with me. She's mad at me."

Rachel couldn't help it. When she heard Brittany, she jumped on her feet and walked toward the girl. All of her pain had gone away and was replaced by an obsessive curiosity.

"Why?" She whispered eagerly. "Why is she mad at you?"

"I don't know. She just-"Brittany took a deep breath. "She doesn't want to talk about it so I don't know and it's kind of suck 'cause she's my best friend and I like her so very much, you know?"

Rachel sighed and nodded before turning towards the door to leave.

"I know she speaks to you now."The childlike girl said from behind her. "Did she say anything about me?"

For a moment, the small singer contemplated telling the poor girl the truth. Of course, Santana didn't speak of her but, every time Brittany wasn't looking, dark brown eyes would set on her screaming desperately to be loved.

"She needs time!" She could have said but she didn't.

"She's lost without you." Someone else would have said but Rachel didn't.

Instead, she gave her an apologetic smile.

"No, I'm sorry, she didn't."


	9. Don't believe your friends

"Don't believe your friends when they ask you to be honest with them. All they really want is to be maintained in the good opinion they have of themselves." Albert Camus

Friendship, it was a word that Rachel Berry did not comprehend. To her, it was a fraud formed by an intricate web of lies. She was shocked by how easy it had become for her to pretend. She was concealing her true nature to please others and, at times, she could hardly remember why she was acting that way. Then, someone would smile at her and she would forget her loneliness and, for a moment, a brief moment, she would truly believe that the lie she was living was real.

Her blossoming friendship with Santana had drawn away from her Kelly and Meredith but it didn't matter anymore. They had served their purpose.

Rachel would now travel from group to group without ever being able to build strong relationships with anyone. It was easier that way to keep the image she had chosen to portray and it helped her maintain her social status. Everything was progressing smoothly, almost too slowly, but key elements were falling into place.

Since her last encounter with Brittany, Rachel had found herself a growing interest in the naïve girl. Strangely, it had never occurred before their conversation how important she had been, and still was, in Santana's life. She surely knew her more than anyone else. It was almost foolish of her to never have exploited that relationship in the building of her plan of the socially destroying the fierce Latina. After all, the brunette did seem to have genuine feelings for the girl who had been, until recently, her best friend.

Their relationship defied logic. They were so different from one another. One was as dark as a moonless night and the other one was bright as the shining sun. They were two extreme poles. They were, in Rachel's mind, as irreconcilable as the ideology of capitalism with the one of communism, but yet, there they were, well, used to be, in love with each other.

She had tried many times to subtly approach the subject with Brittany which hadn't resulted in much since the childish girl's conversational skills were pretty much none-existent. Sometimes, Rachel would wonder if she was mocking her refusing to believe that someone could be that deeply lost in her own little world.

"A few years ago, Santana and I travelled to the moon. San kept some of the moon rocks we found. They're in her room. They're probably hiding under a pile of clothes. They like to hide. I don't know why 'cause they're so pretty. They're, like, black and sparkly." She told her once answering to the question:"In what kind of activity did you use to engage when you and Santana were spending some time together?"

Rachel stood there speechless because, sincerely, even she couldn't find a reply to such a statement. She obviously wasn't looking in the right direction. There was no way Brittany could give her any valuable information on her relationship with Santana, but maybe other people could.

She was pondering the question one morning, walking pensively towards her locker with her books clenched against her chest, when a mocking voice stopped her reflection.

"Hey Berry!" Speaking of the devil, there she was, Satan, exposing her teeth with a pearly white smile. "Look, since you started acting like a normal person, I sort of can stand being in the same room as you without feeling like punching you every time you open your -"

In order for her plan to work, Rachel had to befriend the highly frustrating girl, but there was no way she could let her step on her self-esteem in such a malicious way.

"First of all, my name is Rachel not Berry and I would be really pleased if you stopped that habit of yours that consist in including as much insult as possible in every sentence that comes out of your mouth."

"Whatever Rachel," Santana replied stressing on the second word. "You don't have to be such a bitch. I was just going to ask if you wanted to go to the movies with me tonight."

Rachel stood still, slowly processing, hardly swallowing, what she had just heard. Her eyes blinked a few times as she stared blankly at the girl in front of her.

"Why me?" She whispered. Experience made her afraid to believe it could be true.

The other brunette shrugged her shoulders indifferently.

"We're friends, no?" Rachel clenched her teeth at the word but nodded firmly. "Usually, I'd go with Queen Fabray, but Ken and Barbie are going on a double date with-"Santana sighed forcefully. "The other two and I like Breadstix but I'm not really down for an explosion of sappy romance bullshit."

Clearly, she wasn't over Brittany and she couldn't stand seeing her in love with someone else. Rachel shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She took her time before answering to the awaiting dark eyes. This was more than perfect. She had been waiting for an opportunity to deepen their friendship. Never would she have expected that Santana, herself, would be the one throwing the bases of Rachel's trap.

"Okay," the small diva had to restrain the excitement in her voice. "What movie did you have in mind?"

Santana smirked proudly and crossed her arms over her chest. She was obviously glad to be having her way and completely oblivious of the singer's deceptive mask.

"I was thinking of Beastly" Which, the smaller brunette noted, wasn't a sappy romance bullshit movie at all. "The guy is so hot."

"You do realize he has a "bestial" appearance for most of the movie?" Rachel mocked her.

"Well, at least, I'll get to see five minutes or so of that eye candy on screen. It's totally worth it." The Latina bit her lower lip in a suggestive manner and sent her a wink. "You know how I like my men."

Rachel almost dropped her books at the last comment. She wasn't entirely sure if what Santana had said was meant to be a jab at her. Had she tried to remind her of her sexual encounter with Finn? If she hadn't, which the small singer doubted, the words still stung. It took her all of her will to bite back the acid reply that came to her mind. "I know how you like you're women too," seemed to want to fly out of her mouth like a swift murderous arrow. She took a deep breath, swallowed her pain, and forced a smile.

"You bet I do." She whispered through her teeth.

Santana went into a giggle fit, throwing her head backward as she did so. Rachel did her best to join her with a polite laugh.

"It's just some friendly teasing." The Latina said suddenly. "We're cool, right?"

"Yes, Santana, we're cool. I'm glad that we're friends. You're really funny when we get to know you and I have to admit that it isn't bad for my reputation to be seen spending some time with someone as popular and beautiful as you."

Santana smacked her lips together and smiled at Rachel conceitedly.

"Yup, girl, you'll see, just follow my lead and the school will be ours."


	10. cure for an obsession

"Cure for an obsession: get another one. " Mason Cooley  
Rachel knew, even though at times she found it hard to admit, that she used to be obsessed by her boyfriend. She knew everything about him. Well, everything that could be known to someone who did not own the gift of omniscience. She used to think that love made her that way. That love would make anyone that way.

As she bought them matching calendars and wrote both of their schedules in them, as she collected pictures of them for her personal scrapbook of their relationship, as she wrote lyrics of songs dedicated to her boyfriend, as she spent countless hours wondering where and with whom he was, Rachel never doubted that her actions were simply due to the intensity of the love they shared.

Recent events had made her realize that love wasn't the only factor that could motivate such dedication.

Yes, she was obsessed again, but this time it wasn't love that made her feel that way.

It was jealousy.

It was resentment.

It was hate.

Rachel knew she was staring at the Latina's unguarded features from under her lashes, but she couldn't help herself. Santana's straightened hair hung loosely around her neck. Near her ear, one of her dark lock was held back by a baby blue bow which, somehow, made her seem softer and, in the singer's opinion, more feminine.

Her face was illuminated by the flickering purplish light projected by the movie. Entranced by the story, probably in the belief that the darkness was protecting her from any possible observers, Santana seemed rid of most of the tension that usually took hold of her body. Her lips were parted in an expression of wonder and her eyes were opened wide as the film's images reflected on her brown orbs.

Although she seemed happy at the moment – a slight smile appeared from time to time in the corner of her mouth- she had an air of melancholia and general fatigue. She looked as though she was wearing a heavy weight on her shoulder which was draining her energy and deepening the rings under her eyes.

Still, she was frustratingly beautiful, even in her sadness, as if she remained unaffected by it.

The small diva envied her. She felt disdain towards her effortless sensuality which she associated to her well-known sleaziness. It seemed senseless to her that someone could project and aura of sexual energy while doing something as simple as watching a movie, but yet Santana was there doing exactly that and she despised her for it.

Rachel could easily imagine Finn being the one sitting there beside the Latina. He probably would have been feeling butterflies dancing in his stomach while looking at her. Maybe would he have reached for that soft hand resting lazily on the armrest separating them? Then, Santana would have turned her head towards his, like Rachel used to do, and pressed her mouth lightly against his cheek, a whispered touch, before capturing his lips with hers to share a heating kiss reminding him in that way of their night of passion.  
Rachel growled in frustration.

A finger brushed lightly against her forearm.

"Hey", Santana murmured next to her ear, eying her inquiringly. "Are you okay? You look like you're about to be sick."

The smaller brunette nodded vehemently, took a large intake of breath, smiled politely, and exhaled slowly through her teeth. Her head started to spin, painfully, as she did so.

"'Kay, if you ever feel weird, you know where the bathroom's at. I'm not in the mood of having you throwing up all over my dress."

The Latina's face was expressing disgust, but her voice was humorous.

Rachel did not laugh, merely smiled, and brought her attention to the movie. Her enemy's gaze was searching her intensely almost as if she could guess her true intentions. It made it hard for her to concentrate on the plot which she already thought was barely interesting.

There was a few minutes of this followed by a shy sigh, and Santana's mind went back to the movie. She did not though retrieved her initial state of innocent pleasure and Rachel could feel the Latina's sudden awareness of her presence.

The time they spent watching the end of the movie was filled with awkwardness, with uncomfortable uneasiness.

"That movie was all kinds of awesome!" Santana exclaimed, shaking her set of keys as they walked back towards her car. "Like I said, the guy's super fine."  
"Yeah!" Rachel replied. "Totally!" She laughed at her own choice of words. She, then, crossed her arms over her chest, trying to gain some heat."Santana, I really don't know how you do it. I'm fully covert and I'm freezing. You're in a dress!"

Santana shrugged her shoulders and reached for the car's front door handle.

"Nobody said that being pretty was easy." She replied in a neutral tone of voice before sliding unto the driver's seat.

Rachel stood in place for a few seconds, staring at the sky, wishing her soul could be as peaceful as the quietness of the night. A loud honking noise interrupted her sad contemplation. Santana had a gift for destroying any type of serenity.

"What are you waiting for? Get your ass in the car! You think I'm going to open the door for you or something?"

Rachel sighed, swung her arms back in forth in a childish motion before taking a few step forward, opening the car's passenger door, and finding her way back to hell.

A few minutes later, Santana's car was blasting some loud music. The sound of it was loud enough to stop them from starting conversation. It was also probably loud enough to keep her from having any depressing thoughts about the fact that the girl sitting next to her wasn't the tall blue eyed dancer she wished she was.

No matter how loud the music was, a gloomy mood had crept into the car that neither of the girls could chase. Rachel stared out the side window. She was starting to wonder where her life was going. It seemed that every decision she made was directed towards her revenge. She knew it was wrong, but it was as though it was the only thing keeping her together. It was as if she was made of puzzle pieces. If someone was to discover it, if someone was to remove a piece of her plan, she wouldn't be complete anymore. Not that it should have matter because she already was, in some way, a deconstructed image of herself.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

"Berry, I don't want to sound rude or anything, but we've been parked for like a minute…" Santana's voice was filled with annoyance.

Rachel shook her head and was about to open the door when a small hand grasped her wrist. She saw more than felt a caramel thumb slide against her skin in a way she assumed was meant to be soothing, but it made her shudder with disgust.

"Rachel, have you been crying?" And it really seemed as though the brown eyes scanning hers were genuinely concerned. The tanned hand left her wrist and gently caught the second tear that was threatening to spill down her cheek. The gesture sent a wave of spicy, insistent, perfume to her nose. Rachel suppressed the urge of smacking the cold fingers that were stroking her cheek.

She tried to find something to say, something to explain her sudden distress.

"My boyfriend- he left me today." It was the only idea that came to her mind. It was an easy lie that would save her from having to pursue with the one she had told her classmates before. "He sent me a text to inform me that it was over."

"Oh…" Santana replied. Her hand left Rachel's cheek to rest on the headrest and she smirked. "Well, if you want some piece of advice, you should do like I do, and just not fall in love. Then, you wouldn't get your heartbroken, you know? It's easier that way. That's why people shouldn't do relationship. Like that, everyone gets what they want and nobody's hurt."

Rachel stared into the pretentious dark eyes, trying to see pass the Latina's thick walls of nonsense.

"So, you've never been in love?"

Santana let out a strangled laugh, which had obviously meant to be much more confident, and turned her gaze towards the front. Both of her hands fell upon her laps and her fingers fidgeted with the material of her purse. She opened her mouth, closed it, and laughed again, this time more nervously.

"Love is stupid, Rachel. You'll never get anything good out of it. Don't you get it? Finn treated you like shit. That knew guy did the same. How many times will it take before you understand the obvious?"

This time, when dark eyes met hers, Rachel was stunned by how much sincerity she saw in them. She nodded before stepping outside.

"Thanks Santana" She whispered. "Good night"

"Whatever…"She heard the other girl reply as she closed the door.

She started walking toward her house. There was sound of screeching tires and she hadn't even had the time to get inside that Santana's car was turning down the corner of the street.

Everything was peaceful again.


	11. alcohol is an anaesthetic

"Alcohol is the anesthesia by which we endure the operation of life." George Bernard

Alcohol, it most probably was the best thing Rachel had discovered on her journey towards popularity. It had the taste of freedom. Yes, it tasted like a momentary pause to her inner turmoil. Nothing felt more pleasant than the numbing sensation of her own intoxication.

Every time she attended a party, she would eagerly grasp a bottle of liquor and let the blissful liquid slide down her throat, invade her blood, and sweep her away from reality. When she wasn't plotting against Santana, she lived for those moments where the room would start spinning and her heart would, finally, stop thumping anxiously against her ribcage.

Only in those intoxicated hours did the raging craziness of this senseless world seemed to make sense. It was then that she could look at it without fear. Her soul would almost be at rest and, at times, a contented smile would find its way on her face.

Sometimes, though, words she wished she wouldn't have said would slide out of her mouth. Other times, she would do things she never thought she could have done. In the end, if she could get rid of that nagging feeling constricting her chest, even if it was only for a few hours, it was worth it.

One of those blurry nights, she was lying on a couch- she wasn't really sure where she was or why she was there, but she was lying on a couch- when she saw Finn. He was resting on the wall on the opposite side of the room. He was drinking beer while lurking at the cheerleaders that passed by.

"Finn", she slurred, but nobody heard her.

A flash of golden locks passed before her face and a pair of hazel eyes were suddenly peering into hers.

"Someone seems pretty gone!" Quinn said in a mocking tone.

A few seconds later, strong arms were lifting Rachel in a sitting position. The floor started moving slowly, which reminded her of the ocean's tide, and she felt seasick.

"Quinn!"She let herself sink against the taller girl's body and started laughing when she realized how similar the head Cheerio's name was to the one she had said earlier.

"You're funny when you don't act like a conceited know-it-all." Quinn told her almost sweetly.

Rachel tried to pull back in protest, but her head was too heavy to move. Instead, she nuzzled the other cheerleader's swan-like neck leaving a stray of saliva on pale white skin as she did so.

"I always knew you were gay Fabray!" Rachel didn't have to open her lazy eyes to know it was Santana's voice she was hearing. The sound of it irritated her deeply. She felt the couch slump under the Latina's weight.

"Shut up S!" The small singer giggled as she felt Quinn's throat vibrating against her nose.

"Is she passed out?" Rachel felt strands of hair tickling her collarbone and hot breath brushing her cheek. She whined, unable to control her frustration at Santana's sudden invasion of her personal space.

There was a sigh and a mix scent of vodka and beer flew over her face. Rachel tried to chase it with her hand. Two loud laughs interrupted her motion and Santana's warm fingers interlocked with her own keeping her from making any other attempt at chasing her away.

"Her boyfriend left her…" The Latina said, probably to Quinn's intention.

"Sometimes, I wish I were single too." The other girl replied.

"Trouble in paradise?" Rachel opened her right eye. The first thing she saw was Santana's crossed legs, fully exposed by her t-shirt length dress, almost resting against her own. It probably wouldn't take long before she opened them for some random guy she clearly did not care about.

"No, I like Sam. He's great, but I don't know there seems to be something missing." Quinn sighed. "It's not like I imagined. I guess I wish I had something more like Brittany and Artie. They seem so in love, you know?" Rachel noticed that Santana's thigh muscle suddenly contracted at the mention of Brittany. "Since the baby, it's as if I can't fall in love anymore and, it's stupid, but I'm scared of having sex again."

"First time always sucks. There's nothing magical about it. Sex is-"Santana grasp on Rachel's hand became stronger, almost vice-like." You have to stop believing that there'll be a special connection or something or that you'll have these amazing feelings out of it. You just have to get into it without having any expectations. And, with time, it gets more fulfilling."

Her declaration seemed to put an end to the conversation because they both fell in silence. Rachel closed her eyes again.

"By the way, why aren't you talking to Britt anymore?" Quinn blurted out all of sudden.

"It's just that things are different since she's with the crippled. I don't like it. It's not the same between us. We used to be so close. Now, she's all over him. She has no time for me. I didn't like what her relationship was doing to our friendship."

Santana's hand finally left Rachel's and the diva felt relieved.

"Santana, don't you think you're being selfish? You're her friend. He's her boyfriend. Obviously, she'll want to spend more time with him than with you. It's not the same type of relationship. You can't cut her out of your life just because she's in love."

There was no answer, only the sound of music and cheers, resonating into Rachel's ears. She felt Santana shift uncomfortably against her side and soon her hand was captured by the Latina's again, toyed with by anxious fingers.

"You should go dance with Sam. He won't stop looking this way. It's pathetic. If I have to stand one more minute of this I think I'm gonna barf."Santana's free hand was suddenly on Rachel's waist, pulling her softly towards her. "I'll look after her." She said, lowering herself a little so that the smaller brunette's head could rest on her shoulder.

"Who would have thought that one day we'd be hanging out with the midget!" Quinn stated. Santana snorted in response. Then, the head cheerleader was gone.

Rachel felt horrified, to say the least, to be in this uncomfortable position. She, also, wasn't exactly sure how to handle it. She couldn't exactly pull herself away from Santana's embrace. For one, she was feeling as though her body was weighting a hundred tons. She would also probably ruin her chances at building a comfortable friendship with the Latina.

Then, as Rachel thought the situation wouldn't be more awkward, the other girl's head dropped against hers, almost as if she was looking for comfort. When she felt Santana's chest rise and fall against her arm under the pressure of a heavy sigh, the small singer stirred. She slowly stretched her legs in front of her and opened her eyes.

When she realized Rachel was awake, the Latina swiftly moved away from her, putting some distance between them.

"Girl, you were far gone." Santana told her seemingly amused.

Rachel scanned the room. She saw Quinn in a corner playing with Sam's hair. Puck was near them, playing at a drinking game with Mike. Finn wasn't far by talking to a football guy she only knew by name, Jack.

Jack was, very unsubtly, lurking at Santana's enlarged breasts.

The singer grunted and tried to stand up, but her legs were wobbly. She was about to fall when Finn caught her. Rachel closed her eyes contentedly. She smiled as she took in his scent. The embrace didn't last long and, soon, her ex-boyfriend was pulling away.

"Rachel, you should go back home." Finn's fuzzy mouth told her. "Do you have a ride? I could drive you"

Rachel felt her heart jump wildly with hope.

"I'll drive her." Santana said from behind her. "I was gonna leave anyway."

"Cool, thanks Santana!" Finn grinned at her goofily.

The singer felt a surge of hate sprawl through her body. She did not know if the Latina did in on purpose or not, but she always found a way to come between Finn and her. Reluctantly, feeling like a living-dead, she followed Santana as she searched for both of their coats and dragged her outside.

The Latina, glaring and growling, reprimanded her several times for not walking fast enough which made her want to slow her pace. She took a vicious pleasure at seeing Santana's legs take a reddish color and found it amusing to see her huff white clouds of air from time to time. If she did not dress in such a provoking way, she wouldn't have suffered from the cold like she did.

When they, finally, sat down in car, Rachel did not take in pity the shivering girl next to her. She merely stared out the window waiting to be brought back home, back to reality, far from Finn, far from her dreams. Santana was like that. She would constantly cut other people's wings. She did it over and over again. It was her second nature.

Rachel chuckled darkly.

"What's so funny?" The darker girl asked her with curiosity.

"I was thinking-"If Santana could interfere in her love life, she could do it too. "I was thinking of what Quinn said about Brittany."

"You were listening? I thought you were asleep." The Latina said aggressively.

"Brittany and I were talking about you the other day and she told me that, even though at first she missed you a lot, she was glad that you took your distance. She said it was better that way. To be apart from you made her realize how much she couldn't have a voice of her own in your relationship –or friendship if you'd rather call it that way- because she constantly lived in your shadow. Being at your side made her feel ostracized by her classmates, but now she feels truly accepted for whom she is and it makes her happy. Quinn is wrong; you shouldn't try to build a friendship on ruins. I know it's not my place to tell you that, but I personally don't think neither of you would gain something out of it."

There was no response, only a strange stifled noise escaping from the Latina's mouth. Her pores seemed to exhale frustration, rage, pain, and Rachel wondered if she had gone too far. The car braked suddenly. She shut her eyes closed and mentally prepared herself to jump out of the car, readying herself to any possible attack. A loud banging noise resonated in the car.

"FUCK!" Rachel opened her eyes. The dark brown orbs she found herself staring into were drowning in pool of tears."I don't fucking understand! He's such a freaking asshole! You've seen him! He treats her like she's fucking retarded. I've always been there for her. Well, almost…At least, I tried! He just wheeled his way into her life and, now, it's like I don't even exist. I don't get it. I just don't get it..."

Then, the world began to spin again and Santana's words didn't make sense anymore. They were just dancing around like annoying flies. The singer suddenly found it hard to breath. She tried to unbuckle her seatbelt, but couldn't. And, under the Latina's horrified stare, Rachel bent forward and threw up all over her feet. She clasped her hand over her mouth and started giggling uncontrollably.

The night had turned out to be ridiculously bad.


	12. how tedious is a guilty conscience

"How tedious is a guilty conscience!" John Webster

_Once, when Rachel was a child of about 8 or 9 years old, there was this other girl in her class that was very talented, more talented than her she had to admit. Her name was Marise._

_The teacher would always stop by Marise to give her a compliment or to take her as an example for the other children to see the proper way of executing their exercises. When their teacher created their group's choreography for the annual show, Marise being her favourite, she gave her a more prominent part. Since it was from common use for their teacher to show to all of them every single part of the dance, Rachel got to learn Marise part too. She rehearsed it in her room until she could execute it perfectly, but, still, she couldn't perform it nearly as good as her classmate. Now, Rachel could have admitted her defeat, but she hated not to be the one in the spotlight which she considered her rightful place._

_A few days before the show, Rachel was playing in the park when she saw Marise sitting on top of the monkey bars, swaying her feet happily as she stared at the kids running below her. At first, when Rachel climbed up there, it was only to have a conversation - which they did indeed have- but, then, she started paying attention to how gracefully the other girl's hand moved when she talked and she got jealous. It just didn't seem fair to her that, no matter how hard she worked, she could never be as good as Marise. _

_It was at that moment that the idea crossed her mind._

"_I have to admit that I am deeply impressed by how comfortable you seem in this position." She told the other girl._

"_I know! My mom's always scared I'll fall down, but I never do" Marise replied laughing._

"_Have you ever tried walking on top of the monkey bars? I'm sure you could do it" Rachel exclaimed with exaggerated admiration._

"_I'm not sure it's a good idea. My mom wouldn't like it." _

"_You are probably the most agile person I know. You would have to be very unlucky for something bad to happen to you." Rachel insisted._

_Marise glanced from side to side, nervously, before slowly getting up. Rachel could see the fear in the other girl's eyes, but the adrenaline rushing through her veins stopped her from thinking of the consequences of what she was about to do._

"_Wait!" She said, bringing her knees against the cold metal and rising a little. "I want to try it too!" Then, all she had to do was to pretend to lose her balance, look like she was trying to catch it back by grasping Marise's hand, and push her to the grown._

_She wasn't exactly sure when she realized how wrong it was. It might have been when she heard the girl's cry of pain or when she saw her disappear in an ambulance, but she didn't truly feel guilty until her next ballet class when she saw Marise sitting in a corner with a cast on her arm. _

_She was the first one to sign it._

"_I hope you'll get better soon! We'll miss you" She wrote._

_And, when the teacher gave her Marise's part, instead of being happy like she thought she would have, Rachel felt ashamed._

_She went to visit Marise at her house every day until her cast was gone, bringing her cookies, and filling her in on what she had missed. When the poor girl came to see her perform, Rachel gave her the flower bouquet her fathers had bought for her._

"_It should have been yours!" She told her. It was her way of saying sorry. _

"_You're the best friend in the entire world" The other girl replied engulfing her in a hug._

_The year after, Marise moved away and Rachel was back at being the best of her class._

That Sunday morning, when Rachel woke up, she realized she had spent the night dreaming of Marise. Santana's teary face came back to her mind and she felt guilty. It was the second night in a row she had spent having these strange nightmares. It was probably for that reason that she ended up driving to the Latina's house with a box of homemade cookies.

When the door opened on Santana dressed in a football shirt and a black lace underwear, an odour of cologne and man's sweat hit her nose. Rachel, disgusted, immediately felt like turning back.

"Don't worry. He's gone" The Latina told her. She stretched lazily and her eyes fell on the box in Rachel's hands. "What's that?"

"I made you some cookies." Santana narrowed her eyes and scowled.

"Why?" Rachel sighed and indicated the inside of the house.

"Can I get in?"Santana crossed her arms over her chest and moved to the side.

Rachel closed the door and stuffed her box into the Latina's unwilling hands. She, then, proceeded into removing her winter attire under the other girl's glare. She wasn't even finished that Santana had already moved into another room with an indifferent sway to her hips. The singer started wondering why she had had the foolish idea to pay an unexpected visit to the cold brunette.

She spent a fair amount strolling around the sumptuous rooms of her classmate's impressive house before she found her sitting down on an uncomfortable looking leather couch in what Rachel guessed to be their family room. Santana's body was draped in a blanket. Her attention was concentrated on a television which was screening a childish cartoon. One of her hand was holding a half-eaten cookie and she was vaguely smiling.

Rachel made her way towards and sat down on the couch with her back straight. A nagging feeling had settled in the pit of her stomach which made her feel like running away, but, instead, she reached for the cookie box which was now displayed on a small wooden table and took the smallest one of the bunch. She nibbled it lightly, hoping it would relieve her from her tension.

"I'm sorry I was sick in your car." She whispered shamefully.

"My father was pissed off." Santana replied with her attention still focused on the screen.

Rachel tried to follow the childish story portrayed by the cartoon, but her nerves were stopping her from appreciating it. She wasn't exactly sure where Santana had developed her taste in movies and TV shows, maybe it came from spending too much time with a childlike teenager. Rachel found it, not only extremely uninteresting to watch, but, also, in deep contrast with the image the Latina tended to project.

Santana suddenly exploded in a loud sounding laughter. When she finished wiping the tears from the corner of her eyes, she took another bite of her cookie and dropped her head on her free hand.

"What did you do last night?" Rachel asked her, tired of being ignored, but immediately regretted her question when she remembered how the Latina was dressed.

"Jack and I fucked all night." Santana replied in a neutral tone. She briefly glanced at Rachel before putting her cookie down on the table and getting up. "Would you like some milk?"

"No, I don't drink milk." Santana stopped on her way out of the room to frown at her answer. Rachel shrugged her shoulder. She knew the Latina wouldn't understand her life style so she let her disappear without giving her an explanation of what it was like to be a vegan.

When she came back, Santana was juggling with a glass of milk and what seemed to be various packages of candies.

"We used to- I used to-There's a cupboard full of these and I don't like eating them alone" She said dropping them all over the diva's laps. "Chose your favourite!"

Rachel blinked with surprise. She looked into Santana's dark eyes, trying to read an ulterior motive, before hesitantly picking a licorice bag. The Latina shrugged her shoulders, carefully placed her milk glass on the table, sat back on the couch, took a lollipop, and slipped it into her mouth. She started sucking it suggestively before winking and laughing at the singer's horrified expression. Then, she took the remote control, threw her legs over Rachel's laps, and picked another channel.

"Do you like Jersey Shore?" She asked her.

"I've never seen that show before." Rachel replied.

"You're such a loser." Santana bent towards the other girl and dropped the remote between her legs. "Change it if you don't like it."

Rachel scrunched her nose at her repulsive smell.

"Don't you shower in the morning? You're corporal odour is absolutely revolting." Santana gave her a light kick of the heel.

"Last time I checked morning is not over." She smirked. "I think someone's jealous 'cause she's not getting any."

"Hardly."

Santana snickered and, even though it was hard for her to do so, Rachel had to admit that spending time with the other brunette wasn't as bad as she first thought.


	13. Birds sing after a storm

"Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever remains to them?"  
Rose Kennedy

When Rachel walked through the entrance of McKinley High that Monday, she felt happier than she had done in weeks.

Everything seemed as usual.

There was a couple making out by the lockers. Jacob Israel was stalking some poor girl. Mercedes was eating tots while speaking to Tina. Quinn was making a speech to Sam on how important it was for them to be Prom King and Prom Queen. Puck was flirting with Lauren whose response seemed to be more cold than hot. Meredith and Kelly were gossiping about everything and nothing. Mr. Schue and coach Sylvester were having an argument in the principal's office and Mrs. Pillsbury was sanitizing her pens.

Everything seemed the same, but something was different. When Rachel passed by Santana who was talking suggestively to a muscular looking jock, she did not pay attention to it because, for the first time since Christmas, she did not care.

It appeared that spending the previous day in the Latina's company had almost erased any thoughts of plotting against her. It wasn't that Rachel liked Santana- her behaviour was till more than reproachable - it was simply that she did not hate her anymore.

For that reason, her step was lighter and she was starting to believe that maybe, eventually, she could be happy again.

Rachel was joyful enough to sing to herself while she circulated down the hallways, something she hadn't done in a long time. Ironically, she was almost smiling when she reached the staircase where she was about to hear the conversation that would shift her mood and erase all of her good resolutions.

"So Saturday night, Santana invited me over and you know what that means." It was Jack she was hearing. He seemed to be talking from a hidden spot under the stairs.

"Everybody knows what that means." Rachel's heart froze when she recognized Finn's voice.

"That girl knows what she's doing. I swear it was the best fuck ever. She's so fucking good!" The singer sat on the third step, near the wall. She wrapped her arms around her legs and brought them towards her chest.

"I-I know." Finn stuttered and Rachel's body stiffened. "My first time was with her."

"Seriously? You banged her?" Jack seemed dubious. "I didn't think you were her type."

Rachel scoffed. If given the right amount of alcohol, Santana was probably sleazy enough to make out with a mannequin.

"What makes you think I'm not her type?" Finn shrieked, sounding like an offended child."When I was with Rachel she threatened me to tell her about our one night stand because she wanted us to break up. She told me that, if we did so, she'd be happy to date me so, obviously, she's got to be at least a bit into me."

Rachel had to cover her mouth with both of her hands not to gasp loudly. Time stopped flowing, her lungs stopped working, and, suddenly, a loud pounding noise was hammering against her skull. She got up on her feet. Her vision became blurry. She started running up the stairs and her wobbly members almost made her trip.

Santana was inconsiderate

Santana was vicious.

Santana was horrible.

Santana was cruel.

Tears were now streaming down her face. She could hardly orientate herself towards the art class she was supposed to attend. Intense pain was rushing through her body and it made her feel sick.

The bell rang.

Since she did not want to be seen in such a state, Rachel opted to spend her first period hidden in her safe haven, the choir room. When she got there, she closed the door and slid against it until she was crouching on the floor. Then, she sobbed without inhibition as if she were a child.

"Are you hiding from the dragon too?" Brittany's head popped from under the piano. Rachel bit her bottom lip trying to control her body from trembling.

"Brittany, dragons don't exist." She replied in a shaky voice.

"Yes, they do!" The childish girl squealed, her eyes growing wide. "Haven't you watch Shrek?"

"Could I get into your hideout?" Rachel crawled toward the other girl. It wasn't that she believed in dragons because she clearly did not, but she needed to hide from her own monsters. The position she had to take to fit under the piano was beyond uncomfortable, but it made her feel better. Brittany snaked her arms around her waist, seeking for reassurance. Rachel noted that she smelt like vanilla and baby powder. It was an odour that had a flavour of childhood and happiness.

"You know what?" The dreamy girl whispered into her ear. "This reminds me of the first time Santana and I kissed."

Rachel's head snapped up. She had been trying to make her open about her relationship with Santana for weeks. She couldn't believe that it was finally happening.

"How did it happen?" She asked and she realized, at that moment, that she had stopped crying. An unhealthy form of curiosity had replaced her sorrow.

"Well, it was on her first year here, right after cheerleading practice. Santana told me she wanted to show me something and she dragged me here." Rachel knew she was staring at Brittany with a shocked expression on her face, but she couldn't help herself.

"Why here?" The blond girl smiled at her.

"Let me finish my story! "They have a special room for music here" She said and she, like, ran towards the piano. She doesn't know how to play it and she just made some horrible sound, but she was super excited. I tried to play piano too and I was just as bad. We made so much noise that a janitor came to see what was going on. We decided to hide under the piano and we were super close like you and I right now. Santana was holding me from behind and I could feel her breathing down my neck. It made me feel super weird. It was like there were thousands of caterpillars climbing up my body but, like, in a nice way. I think she was feeling the same because she wasn't moving like me. We stayed like that for a very long time. I got scared that maybe everyone was gone and we were locked inside. I turned to ask her what we would do if it were the case. When I did, she made this funny little noise and I realized she was staring at my lips. It was totally in the same way guys did before I kissed them." Brittany made a dramatic pause. "That's when I decided to kiss her because, you know, that's what she wanted. Then, she cupped my cheeks with both of her hands and became super intense like when you're very thirsty and someone gives you a glass of water. She started breathing like really, really, hard and I wasn't used to people breathing so hard when I kissed them so I pulled back to see if she was okay. She didn't like it. She jumped like she was scared, hit her head on the piano, and started cursing. It thought it was funny, but I think she didn't because she glared at me and left."

When Brittany finished talking, Rachel exhaled a breath she did not know she was holding. Her head was swirling from the lack of oxygen and she let it fall unto the blond girl's shoulder. As time went by, she seemed to collect more and more evidences that there had been a strong connection between the two cheerleaders. Now, she had to find a way to be absolutely sure that they wouldn't talk again. The further apart Santana would stay from Brittany, the more she would be hurting.


	14. Hypocrite

"HYPOCRITE, n. One who, profession virtues that he does not respect secures the advantage of seeming to be what he despises." Ambrose Bierce

Colorless days were going by and Rachel still didn't have any idea to how she was going to proceed in her Machiavellian plan. She realized that she tended to find herself observing Brittany more and more.

At first, she wasn't able to understand why people as intelligent as Artie and Santana could find in such a girl. There was nothing mentally challenging in spending time with her. She could barely form a concrete sentence.

After some time of spending time with her, she started noticing some things. For someone like Rachel who could only see darkness in her surroundings, to be in Brittany's presence seemed to act like a strong analgesic.

She was a very strange girl. Sometimes, while everybody else was in class, she could be seen twirling down the hallways as if Peter Pan was pulling her by the hand towards Neverland. While everybody else seemed reluctant to go into the cold, she could be found running against the wind with her coat wide open and frozen tears of excitement in the corner of her eyes.

When she liked you, she would sometimes intertwine your fingers and invite you in her strangely wonderful world. Without even realizing it, you would lose your balance and fall into Brittany's wonderland. There, it seemed like you could breathe again. It was all your trouble would fade away and you could be as carefree as a child. Rachel had become friends with her out of necessity, but she was truly starting to be fond of her.

Contrastingly, the more time she spent with Santana, the more her hate for her grew deeper. Paradoxically, the Latina, on the other hand, seemed to grow in affection for her or, more exactly, for the image Rachel had built for herself. What was odd about it was that as much as she was cold and distant when she did not like you, when she did, her need for physical contact seemed to be restless. It was as if she had been deprived of affection for so long that, when she could get some, she would latch on it almost desperately. She also seemed to try to physically compensate for her incapacity to express herself verbally.

She would come and hug Rachel from behind when she wanted to pull her out of sorrowful thoughts. She would kiss her on the cheek when she wanted to be forgiven. She would slide her fingers up and down her arms in a feather-like touch to express contentment. She would braid her hair or simply twirl a brown lock around her finger when she was bored. Everything seemed like a pretext to touch her. It shouldn't have come as a surprised considering the fact that Santana's favourite activity seemed to be to throwing all of her emotions into her highly active sexual life. She clearly had no understanding of them which would have been sad if it wasn't so revolting.

It was the only thing Rachel could think about when those filthy hands would touch her skin or when those lips linger on her cheek.

"Where have they been?"

"Does she wash her hands?"

"Does she brush her teeth?"

In the beginning, she would flinch every time it happened or shudder with disgust. With time, she grew immune to it. It was simply one of those things she would suffer through like high school. Sometimes, she could almost convince herself that she liked it. At some point, she would gain something out of it. It was the only thing that mattered.

One night, they were working on a school project when Rachel realized that, even though it had to be the twelfth or the thirteenth time she was at Santana's house, she still hadn't met her parents.

"Where are your parents?" Santana didn't even lift her head from the book she was reading. She continued on staring at it with a frown on her face."Santana, your parents, where are they?"

"My father's working." She replied. "My mother's on a business trip." She closed her book and walked towards the bed."I'm tired of this shit. We're never gonna finish this paper by tomorrow."

"Santana, this is import-"Rachel started.

"I didn't say I didn't want to finish it."Santana interrupted her." Do you think you're the only one that wants good grades? I'm just fed up so I'm gonna take a break and we'll get back at it later."

The singer started pacing back and forth. She stopped abruptly in front of the mirror and chewed her bottom lip in a way that made her seem as though she hadn't eaten in days. She was tired of this. She couldn't stand the Latina's infuriating way of acting. She briefly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to calm down. She didn't want to say something that she might have regretted saying later.

Her gaze fell on the dresser's disorganized top. There were beauty products everywhere. They were carelessly piled on top of each other. On one side, Rachel could see an animal patterned bra hanging loosely around a straightening mousse. An old exam was squished between various bottles of nail polish. On top of a school book, there was a half-eaten chocolate bar which made her want to scream in horror. How could someone live in such a repulsive environment? She sighed. She grasped the cleanest looking lip-gloss and started applying it on her lips.

That's when she noticed them, Santana's sad dark eyes, half-hidden by a dark lock of hair, slowly, shyly, travelling up her legs. Even through the mirror, Rachel could see how much shame they wore. The Latina's lashes were barely able to conceal the world of emotions that existed beyond their gates. How strange was it that the fierce woman seemed so vulnerable when she thought no one was looking.

She almost looked like a defenseless child. She was clearly fearful to admit her own desires.

Rachel blushed as she suddenly realized that she was the one being scanned by that hooded stare. For a second or two, she stopped breathing. She became deeply aware of her own body which seemed to be paralyzed at the moment. It didn't make sense to her that the girl she envied the most could be physically attracted to her.

Blinking her way back to reality, Rachel nervously licked her lips.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was imagining everything. Maybe Santana wasn't looking at her the way she thought she was.

She had to verify her hypothesis. Lazily stretching her arms over he head and arching her back in a sensual manner, Rachel waited to see the other girl's reaction. As she did so, Santana shifted her position pulling her legs towards her chest as though she was trying to shield herself from some external danger. Her brown eyes darted nervously from side to side before taking their usual undecipherable composure.

Rachel laughed inwardly.

It stunned her suddenly how confident this situation was making her feel. It made her proud to know how much power she held over her enemy even if it was _that _kind of power or maybe _because_ it was that kind of power.

The power Santana had over Finn.

Ironic.

Yes, truly ironic…

Rachel smiled at her own reflection. She was beautiful. She had to be beautiful for this gorgeous woman to look at her that way. The girl desired by Finn was attracted to her.

"You're right. We should take a break." Rachel blurted out after a moment.

Santana shrugged her shoulders. She unfolded her legs and changed position to lie on her back. The tension left her body as she did so. She closed her eyes. Rachel climbed into the bed and sat next to her. Her hand went to the Latina's forehead. She pushed her bangs to the side and slid her fingers down her face. It was the first time that she was voluntary touching her. Santana smiled under her touch and reached for her hand, topping it with her own.

"It tickles." Her eyes flew open. They were brown and shiny.

Rachel dropped her head on the Latina's pillow and smiled. She grasped her enemy's hand and squeezed it firmly.

Santana was not strong. She was fragile, so incredibly fragile.


	15. Vanity is the quicksand of reason

"Vanity is the quicksand of reason" George Sand

With the newest development on Santana's perception of her, Rachel was starting to see their friendship in a new light. She, somehow, newly enjoyed being in her presence. Strange, it could have seemed for someone observing the evolution of their relationship from an external point of view but it wasn't that much. Rachel loved to be the center of attention. She loved to be admired.

As much as Rachel used to dislike any physical contact with the Latina, she suddenly couldn't get enough of it. It wasn't that she enjoyed the physical aspect of touching her because she did not; it was more that she was pleased to see the reactions they would generate. She had, for example, realized that when she returned the soft, slightly tickling, caresses the other girl tended to unconsciously give to her arms and legs while they sat beside one another, Santana listened much more to what she had to say, smiled at her from time to time, and even giggled if she was in a particularly good mood. She was amused by how Santana would flush every time she would let her lips linger on her cheeks, a bit longer than necessary, after kissing them. More than all, she enjoyed to see Santana shiver under her fingers whenever she ran them over her neck or down her back. It was as if her touch could magically transform a tiger into a purring cat and it made her feel special, unique, extraordinary…

One could have believed that this abrupt change in Rachel's behavior meant that her heart was warming up to her, but it was not the case. On the contrary, it was simply a new way she had found to express her disdain of her. What Rachel liked about this novelty in their relationship was that it put her in a position of superiority to the other girl. She was the one with the upper hand because Santana, though she did not talk about it, seemed to be starting to care about her. Still, it was not enough. Except for that single moment of weakness in the car, Santana did not confide in her. Rachel was starting to believe that she did not confide in anybody at all, not even to Brittany. It probably was the reason why she used to enjoy her company as much because with Brittany there was no need to have serious conversations. Rachel needed more than that.

Often, Santana would invite her over after cheerleading practice.

"Hey Rach," She whispered in her ear once while they were changing. "I have a surprise for after."

"What kind of surprise?" She replied nervously. Somehow, the combination of "Santana" and "surprise" did not appeal to her.

Santana gave her a wicked smile, reached for the back of her uniform top, and unzipped it. She threw it carelessly over her bag.

"You'll see" Then, she was off to speak to Quinn about their routine while discarding lazily the rest of her clothes. Rachel had noticed that now that they seemed close again, Santana would be giving the head cheerleader advices, instead of her aggressive opinion, on how to proceed. Well, at times her advices would be said a bit roughly but Quinn was more patient with her than she used to and would sometimes even apply them.

Rachel sighed. She would have to do something about that eventually. She removed her uniform swiftly because she did not want someone to see the marks on her stomach, covered her body with a towel, and walked towards the showers. She took her shower with her eyes closed because she couldn't bear to look at herself. The water running on her skin was hot, inviting, and she was able to relax. Soon, she would be back into her horrifying reality but for a moment, in this comfortable haven, she could be herself again.

She stayed like this for more time than she had thought because, when she got out, the other cheerleaders were gone. There was only Santana left, lying on a bench in the middle of two rows of lockers. She had music in her ears and her eyes were close. One of her feet was swaying over the ground in a hypnotizing pendulum motion. She was humming happily the song that was playing on her I-pod.

Rachel opened her locker and took out her perfectly folded clothes.

"It took you some time." Santana told her and Rachel heard her body shift.

She froze. She knew the Latina was looking in her direction. She turned on herself. Santana was now in a sitting position and she was facing her.

"Could you look to the other side while I change?" Santana seemed taken aback by her hard tone.

"Okay…" She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and sat towards the other side.

Without ever taking off the towel, she put back her clothes. She was scared that Santana might take a peek at her, that she would see her skin, see her naked, see what she did to herself, see who she was, see how ugly she was. When it was over, she exhaled deeply and sat down next to the other girl. Santana was scowling.

"I'm ready to go." Rachel told her softly.

Santana did not answer. Instead, she took out her cell phone and replied to a text message. Rachel frowned when she realized the content of the reply was entirely sexual. She did not understand how Santana could find a way to sneak in her depravity into every single aspect of her life.

"I said that I was ready to go." Rachel insisted.

Santana glared at her. Her eyes were so hard that it made the singer gasp.

"I know. I heard you the first time." She took her bag and walked towards the door. Rachel stayed still. She was stunned by the Latina's sudden mood shift.

"Santana, I don't understand what is going on. Did I do something wrong? Look at me when I speak to you." Santana turned towards her and pressed her back against the door.

"Patrick's parents are having a romantic evening and he invited me over." She crossed her arms over her chest and her chin rose in sharp way. "I think I'm going to go at his place."

Rachel stood up and crossed the distance between them. Santana flinched and took a step back, opening the door as she did so.

"We were supposed to spend the evening together." She squeaked trying not to sound too desperate. "You told me you had a surprise."

"Yeah, well, things have changed." Santana replied coldly. Nothing like that had ever happened before. It was terrifying.

"That's it? Rachel's frustration was flowing so energetically through her body that she could barely conceal it. "That is the only explanation I'm allowed to have?"

Santana seemed to hesitate. She took a small step forward. She opened her mouth to speak but, then, her eyes took that infuriating stoic expression that made her absolutely unreadable.

Rachel looked down. She grazed Santana's fingers with the tip of her own. Seeing that the other girl wasn't running away from her touch, she let her fingers slide across caramel skin, around her wrist, and down to her hand again which she explored gently, afraid that a sudden movement might scare the Latina off. When she looked back up, Santana swallowed hard. Dark eyes, defiant eyes, scrutinized Rachel for what seemed eternity.

"I need to hump something." Santana jerked her hand backward and looked away.

"What?" Santana gave a violent push to the door.

"You said you wanted a more explicit explanation." And, just like that, she was gone.


	16. Relationships

"Whenever you're in conflict with someone, there is one factor that can make the difference between damaging your relationship and deepening it. That factor is attitude." William James

Human relationships, sometimes, they evolve so fast that we never really get why they changed or how it happened. Most of the time, we tend to believe that others are to blame for it which, without being completely false, isn't exactly true.

Many factors contribute to such transformation. For one, in a relationship there are always two people. Those two people will bring to that relationship their own personal history, their personalities. They will give and they will take, mostly the latter, because relationships are usually formed by want.

Sometimes, it will be to receive affection or to know that there will always be someone to count on. It could also be for a more obviously selfish reason like to promote one's career or it could be for something that could seem selfless at first like helping someone but, even then, one will gain something out of it, the gratifying feeling that they are useful.

However, a relationship is not only composed of two actors. There are also minor parts distributed to other people, the ones that were in their life before and the ones that are in their life at the time of their current relationship. These people will have an influence on one's mood, way of thinking, and way of acting: on one's behaviour.

Finally, most importantly, there are also circumstances. Rachel knew how this last one could have a major impact on how people interacted with others. She knew it because she, herself, didn't act the same way that she did months before. Situations changed people, situations made people. Rachel was the same, but she was different, her life was different.

What she did not understand was what had made her relationship with Santana seem to shift the previous night and it made her so anxious that she felt sick.

It drove her crazy not to understand what had happened. She was scared that what had been broken between them could not be repaired. She knew it wasn't that she liked Santana because she despised her. It was simple that she had come to realize that she was dependant of her. Everything in Rachel's life was define by her obsession of her and without it she was lost, she was nothing.

Rachel had spent the entire night tossing and turning into her bed, trying to find in what way she had failed and she knew that the results of her anxiety was stamped across her forehead. She was tired, she felt awful, her steps were heavy, and she knew that she probably looked like a character from a Tim Burton movie.

It was probably for that reason that she found herself raging while rummaging through her locker, trying to find her biology book. She did not know how she could have lost it when her locker was so properly organized. She was so tensed that she almost jumped out of her body when she felt shy fingers brush the skin between her skirt and the hem of her slightly rising top.

"Hey," Santana said softly and Rachel had to hold a scream.

"Hi," she replied harshly.

"Do you want some help?" A guilty smile was dancing on Santana's lips.

"I don't need your help." Rachel hissed.

"You sure? 'Cause you look like you picked up a fight with your books and lost it." Santana mocked her, leaning her side on the closest locker. Her darks eyes seemed lighter than the previous day and bit uncertain. "What the fuck did you do last night? You look like you're having the worst hang over ever."

Rachel sighed, closed her locker, and pressed her forehead against the cold metal. She had most probably left her biology book at home. She slowly let her eyes slide to the side to stare into the other girl's awaiting gaze.

"Are you really expecting me to forgive you just like that? You didn't even have the decency to apology." Santana gaped at her. She blinked a few times and frowned before bringing her hand to her chest in an offended manner.

"Apology?" She blurted out, sounding confused and irritated. "What the fuck? If there's someone who should apology here, it's you. You were the one acting like a total bitch."

Rachel straightened up and turned to face the Latina. She was speechless. None of this made sense. Santana had to be completely insane if she truly believed what she had just said.

"Bitch?" She asked, venom slipped through her voice. "You stood me up, completely out of the blue, to engage into sexual intercourse with a guy with whom I've never even seen you have any interaction whatsoever."

"It's your freaking bitchy attitude. It pissed me off." Santana pursed her lips, her nostrils flared, and she shook her head from side to side.

"What?" And, then, Rachel realized what had ticked the other girl off. "Santana, not everybody likes to flaunt their anatomy to others the way you do. You should respect that. As a friend you should respect me."

"There's a way of saying things." Santana replied, her eyes narrowing.

"While I do admit that I might have spoken to you in a harsh tone of voice, you're reaction has been completely disproportionate."Santana stood silent, pondering her affirmation. After a time, her features softened and she rolled her eyes playfully.

"Look Berry, you were wrong, maybe I was too, but let's just forget about this and move on."

Rachel nodded impassively, but she was not going to forget this soon. The Latina's attitude was completely unacceptable. The hurt, maybe the rejection, she might have felt at her words did not excuse her deplorable behaviour. How could people even like her when she had such a hot temper?

Santana beamed, pulled her in a hug, kissed her on the cheek, and stayed there for a few seconds breathing softly against her skin.

"You smell good." She whispered before backing up, her hand still remaining on the singer's hip, and her head resting against the nearest locker. Rachel noted that her eyes were twinkling and it made her nervous.

"You smell like cigarette." She countered. "Could I borrow your biology book? I forgot mine at home."

"Sure," Santana interlocked their hands and pulled her down the hallway. "I stole a pack of cigarettes from Patrick. The guy deserved it 'cause he was a damn lousy fuck."

Fearful people parted on their way. It was funny how not so long ago she would have been the one running away from the Latina's path. How things had changed since then...

"You're locker is so far from mine. Maybe next year we could find a way to be side by side." Santana told her as she opened her locker and searched through the mess it hosted. She finally pulled out a dismembered looking book. Rachel took it cautiously, afraid that the pages would fall out of it and spread all over the floor.

"How kind of you Santana to loan me this thing..." Santana laughed and closed her locker.

"Well, huh, it's the only one I've got." Rachel flipped through the pages. The book had been completely vandalized. There were drawings everywhere and in the first few chapters she could see written exchanges she could only assume to be between Santana and Brittany.

"So I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me tonight after glee. We could go to a park or something."

Rachel looked up from the open book in her hands. Santana was staring at her. She seemed confident, indifferent, but Rachel knew she was nervous. She made her wait because she deserved it, but for the sake of her plan, for the sake of her sanity, she could not say no.

She accepted half-heartedly and a large smile spread across Santana's features.

"Cool," she said, squeezing Rachel's hand and the singer smiled in return. "See you later then."

Rachel clutched the biology book against her chest and walked toward her class. There she was selling her soul to Satan, for what? She did not know. Maybe for revenge, maybe out of vanity...It all seemed to mix up in a confused blur that made her wonder if she was beginning to lose her grip on reality.


	17. Karma

"My actions are my only true belongings. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground upon which I stand." Thich Nhat Hanh

Karma.

It is said in Hinduism that every action that we take will have its consequences. In order for one's soul to progress through higher levels of reincarnation, one must be able to go through the obstacles sent to him or her by the higher powers. Often, faith will be send obstacles one was not able to overcome in his or her previous life. It is similar to echoes of their past mistakes and it acts in a way like a punishment of one's failure to triumph over the task before.

Sadly, at that point in her life Rachel was not one to be able to perceive the subtle twists of her own destiny, busy that she was interfering with Santana's.

Rachel spent the rest of her day feeling anxious. Her reconciliation with Santana had put on edge. She was under the impression that something important was going to happen, as if she was about to arrive at a crossroad.

She had reached a point in her relationship with Santana where the other girl was starting to trust her. That book she had let her burrow proved it. Rachel had spent her entire class exploring it. Unlike her own school material that was in the exact same state as when it came in her possession, it was strangely private. Scribbles had been made on almost every page. A few hearts, weird looking people, circles, squares, were drawn here in there. There were a few words written in graffiti-like characters: sex, hot, gorgeous, bitch, popular, damn, boring, music, cheer, and on one page a humongous "Bla, bla, bla" right beside a man with glasses who shared a vague resemblance to Santana's biology teacher.

The written conversations between Brittany and Santana at the beginning of the book were what Rachel found the most interesting. Those where Santana's handwriting was the most heavily featured were mostly snarky comments about their classmates to which Brittany's replies were marked by amusement. When Brittany was the one to start their conversations, she mostly wrote strange illogical sentences. Santana answered them by smiley drawings or by few sweet words. There were also a few compliments, references to shared memories, and small games. On the first page of the book, both of their hands had been drawn, side by side, with glittery gel-pens. These discoveries had made her feel like an archeologist. They were interesting, intriguing, filled with history and mystery.

After school Santana and Rachel left together, there was as strange feeling in the pit of Rachel's stomach. The first thing she did when she got in Santana's car was to give her back her book. The Latina just took it and threw it carelessly unto the back seat. This nonchalance was one of those many things that Rachel disliked about her but she was starting to get used to it.

"You're quite talented." Rachel said, breaking the silence. Santana scowled, seemingly confused, and glanced in her direction. "I am talking about those drawings you made in your book. It's a joke."

"Huh, okay. Definitively, not your best." Rachel blushed and shifted nervously on her seat. She was feeling uncomfortable. It was as if her old self was back in her body and she was failing at having a normal teenage interaction.

"So what do you wanna do?" Santana asked her after some time. Rachel turned towards her. She giggled when she noticed that the Latina was scrunching her face in a funny way while trying to shield it from the sun with one of her hands.

"Didn't you want to go to the park?" Santana nodded, turned towards her, and smiled.

"Yeah, we should grab something to eat before. I'm so hungry."

They drove towards the park after stopping by a coffee shop to take out some food: a salad for Rachel and a sandwich for Santana. Rachel was trying to figure out where exactly they were going. They were far away from the Latina's part of town and pretty close to her own house. She wondered why the darker girl would feel like going to a park so distant from her own neighborhood. As they were going through familiar streets, Rachel was becoming more and more aware of their destination and, suddenly, she was feeling strangely apprehensive.

"Where are we going?" She said a bit more aggressively than she intended too.

"It's just this park I used to hang out to with Brittz and Quinn before they got all boring."

A lump settled in Rachel's throat. She licked her lips and exhaled heavily. She knew where they were going. They were going to that park, that park near her house where she used to play as a child. She hadn't been there in years. She kept away from it after the Marise incident. Eventually she grew up and there was no reason for her to go back there.

When they pulled over next to the familiar place, Rachel became livid, guilt draining her blood away. Things seemed strange suddenly. She contemplated the idea that maybe Santana was playing a mind game with her. Maybe she knew…Maybe she knew all along…Maybe Rachel was the one being manipulated.

She heard Santana unbuckle her seatbelt and shuddered with terror. Then, soft tanned hands reached for her own seatbelt, freeing her from it with the small sound of a «click».

«Come…» A word whispered in her ear, escaping from a slightly giggling mouth.

Soon after, they were walking side by side towards the dreaded playground. Santana was whistling a song with an uprising beat that was making the moment grow in tension and, consequently, it was driving Rachel crazy.

"STOP IT!" She felt like shouting but she didn't. She couldn't after what had happened the previous day.

Suddenly, Santana grabbed her hand, causing her to jump.

"Oh g- Wow, someone's on edge." She mused. "Look at this"

She bent forward, pulling Rachel with her, and pointed an inscription on the underside of the slide. Rachel squinted and moved closer.

"Why is my phone number written- Oh! What? "Please call me; I'm desperate enough to pay for sex." Who wrote this? You wrote this? This is absolutely outr-"Santana stopped her rant by muffling her mouth with her hand, laughing loudly as she did so. Rachel squirmed to get out of her grip, but, with her free arm, the Latina circled her waist and pulled her flush against her chest, restraining her from moving by her strong grasp.

"Shhhh" She said before letting her hand slide off the other brunette's mouth. "It's Quinn. She wrote this just before joining Glee club. You know-" Her gaze fell on Rachel's lips and her voice dropped."You know, when you were…chasing after Finn."

Rachel held her breath, scared to move, afraid to talk. Santana glanced away, released her hold, and cleared her throat.

"I brought some weed." She murmured, taking a plastic bag out of her jacket. "This is where I did some for the first time. I thought it'd be cool if you were to do your first time here too. That's -it's the surprise I had for you yesterday."

Rachel stared at her with her mouth agape. The situation might have been endearing if it hadn't been drugs they were talking about, but this, this…

"Marijuana? Do you have any id-" Santana shushed her by waving a hand impatiently in front of her face.

"Come on. You've got to try it at least once."

After a few minutes of furious debating, Rachel inhaled for the first time the illegal substance which sent her into a coughing fit. Santana tried to calm her down by gently rubbing her back and, when Rachel refused to try it again, she insisted.

"It's your first time. It's like that for everybody." She told her soothingly.

When Rachel declined it again, she shrugged her shoulders and stoop up from their uncomfortable spot on the seesaw, joint still in hand.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked her.

"I feel like climbing on top of those monkey bars." She replied sliding the joint into her mouth and jumping to catch hold of the first bar. She then threw herself into awkward acrobatics and, somehow, she squirmed her way up. Rachel observed the strange show with her heart stammering loudly against her chest.

"Why?" She asked, anxiety sipping into her voice. "Why would you want to get up there?"

This strange situation was starting to scare her.

"It used to be my favourite spot. I used to climb up her and watch the other children play underneath. It made me feel important." She laughed pretentiously. "I liked to sway my legs like this 'cause my mother would get all nervous about it. She'd be like:"Santanita, you're gonna fall down!" Of course, I never did."

Rachel tried to talk, but now words came out of her mouth. She could hardly breathe. How could this be happening? She had to know.

"You're too far! Come here with me. You'll see. You'll like it."

Rachel scratched her forearm nervously, her gaze dancing from side to side. How could she know? Nobody knew. She took a deep breath and walked toward the other girl. It was hard for her to climb make it to the top because her palms were sweaty and her fingers were rigid.

"You look as comfortable as a cat near water." Santana laughed at her expanse before moving to the side and patting the cold metal next to her."Come next to me."

Rachel made her way towards the other girl and, when finally sat down, she realized that her heart was racing. All she could think of was the grown beneath her, waiting for her to fall. She closed her eyes shut and tried to calm herself down. She felt Santana gently take her hand, her thumb rubbing circles against her skin.

"Are you afraid of heights?" She asked her, concerned. "Rach! You're shaking."

Santana's other hand cupped her jaw, an herbal odour bypassed her nose, and she felt soft fingers brush against her cheek.

"Look at me…" She whispered and her hot breath spread across her face.

Rachel slowly opened her eyes and fell into worried-looking pool of brown. Santana knew nothing. It was just a coincidence. Immediately, the singer's fear disappeared and she smiled. That was when she noticed how Santana's hand was suddenly stiff, how her eyes were falling again unto Rachel's lips, and how her own mouth seemed to be quivering anxiously.

Santana, she did it all the time with men. Why wouldn't Rachel play her game? She could do it too: tease her, mock her, and hurt her with no care for her feelings.

Rachel took her hand out of the other girl's tight grasp and brought it up to Santana's face. She let her fingers run across her jaw, surprised by how different it felt from touching a guy's stronger bone structure. Then, she let her thumb slide across the darker girl's bottom lip. She parted it gently from the upper one, pleased by the small gasp it drew out, before leaning in to capture Santana's mouth with her own. The Latina moaned into her kiss. The hand Rachel had left earlier cupped her other cheek, pulling her forward. It was obvious by her eagerness that she had been hoping for something like this for a while and Rachel proudly relished into her own seduction power, abandoning herself to Santana's soft desire.

When Rachel pulled back, the other girl's eyes were still closed and her cheeks were flushed. The singer chuckled at the ironic view and turned her gaze to the sky. It was almost as if a higher power was helping her with her revenge. How superstitious had she been to think the contrary…


	18. Butterfly effect

**I'm going to start by saying thank you for the reviews on the previous chapter. They were unexpected and really sudden. I wanted to explore another side of Rachel and, well, that's the result! I'm glad if you like it. :)**

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"It has been said something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world." J. Mackye Gruber/ Eric Bress

There are moments in life where everything seems perfect. Everything seems to be at its rightful place. Everything you wanted, everything you wished for, seems to be within reach. All seems possible and nothing seems to stand in your way. Rachel used to feel that way when she sang. Her talent-an inner ability that she had nurtured with love- gave her the strong feeling that she could accomplish anything.

With time, she had come to realize that talent wasn't enough to get what she wanted. The truth was that she didn't even know what she wanted anymore. It was this confusion over her own aspirations that was on Rachel's mind that morning, taunting her, torturing her. Part of her felt happy of what had happened the day before and part of her just felt empty.

She had woken up a bit before sunrise. To celebrate the arrival of spring, Coach Sylvester had one of her extreme training session prepared for them that morning and she couldn't be late. Quinn was already stretching near the bleachers when she arrived. She went up to her, offering her a helping hand. The head cheerleader gave her a brief head nod as a sign of agreement.

"We're going to run outside." Quinn told her. Her hazel eyes were filled with annoyance. Rachel pouted.

"Outside? It's pouring!" Quinn laughed sarcastically.

"Welcome to the team!"

Other cheerleaders were starting to arrive, but Santana wasn't one of them. Rachel realized that a knot had formed into her stomach at the idea of seeing the brunette again. Not seeing her was even worst. They had barely exchanged words after the kiss. The Latina had interrupted the silence to ask her if she wanted to be driven back to her house, declaring that it was getting late. The second after Rachel had step out of Santana's car, the engine had raced away at a speed way above limit.

Rachel excused herself, pretending that she had forgotten her water bottle in her locker, while what she really had to do was to regain her composure. She was secretly hoping that she would come across the Latina but when she got to the locker room there was no sign of her. She walked in front of a mirror. She stared at her own reflection, trying to control her nervous breath. She ran her hands nervously under her top, scratching over and over her wounded skin. She pressed her forehead against the mirror, lifted her top, and lowered her gaze to her stomach. There was red all over the whiteness of it and blood was tainting her fingers. A tear ran down her cheek and fell unto her hand. She dropped to the floor, sobbing quietly, her body shaking restlessly.

"Rachel?" Quinn's voice came from the door. Rachel stood up, readjusted her top, and wiped her tears away.

"What?" She replied, trying to erase any trace of weakness from her voice.

"We're leaving soon. Hurry up."

Rachel took some toilet paper and cleaned her face up. Her eyes were a bit puffy, but it was too subtle for someone to notice it.

Jogging under the pouring rain was probably one of the worst experiences Rachel had to face in her life. Her entire body was stiff and refused to move forward. The only thing that kept her from dropping to the ground was Quinn's hypnotizing ponytail bouncing in front of her and the lyrics of _Singing in the Rain _playing over and over again in her mind. She was pretty sure that Kelly had disappeared in the middle of their run. She had heard someone whisper that she was turning blue from hypothermia when Coach Sylvester finally took her plea to stop seriously.

When it was finally over, she took more time than usual under the shower, trying to raise her body temperature. She lost track of time and hadn't finished changing back into her clothes when the bell rang.

She threw her bag over her shoulder and walked swiftly towards her class. Her wet sneakers were squeaking loudly as she stepped down the hallway. She glanced out a window and saw Brittany sitting on a picnic table. Her head was heavily resting on her hands. It wasn't raining anymore, but she was shivering under the cold windy weather. Rachel realized at that moment that she had been absent from their morning practice. Intrigued, she decided to seek an explanation to this outlandish behaviour. She found her way out and walked up to the blond. Brittany was looking in her direction, but she did not react when Rachel got close and her face remained expressionless.

"So are you, like, Santana's new best friend?" She said all of a sudden.

Rachel writhed awkwardly under Brittany's blue stare. Wind was flowing through the taller girl's hair. A golden strand was dancing near her mouth, but she did nothing to remove it from there.

"Well, we do spend a lot of time together."

Brittany nodded pitifully. She seemed thoughtful for a while, lost in her own little world.

"She called me yesterday." She whispered, her eyes firmly set on the brick wall in front of them.

Rachel felt irritated. That was not part of the plan. They were not supposed to talk to one another. Whey would Santana got to Brittany when she had her? Weren't they friends? They were almost always together, why would she go back to Brittany?

"Why? I thought you two weren't friends anymore." Aqua eyes turned towards her, scrutinizing her in a contemplative way. Rachel gulped. She hadn't meant to sound so angry.

"We're not really friends. She just- she needed me. She's very confused." The dreamy girl replied after a while. A frown had crept his way upon her face and she seemed pretty puzzled herself. Rachel, eager to hear some more, licked her lips in an anxious manner and was about to open her mouth to talk when Brittany spoke again.

"She thought I was special. That it was different 'cause we were BFF'S." Her eyes filled with tears and, for a second, Rachel thought she saw a flicker of anger flash through the blue gaze settled on her. "Turns out I'm not."

Rachel sighed, relieved. While she obviously did not understand what the other girl was saying, it didn't seem as though the childish girl's relationship with Santana was mending.

"What do you mean? I don't understand."

Brittany's lips were pressed into a thin line and her eyebrows were furrowed. She seemed very present suddenly, far from her usual self, much more aware of her surroundings.

"She told me she liked your sweet lady kiss." Brittany answered bitterly. Rachel yelped, surprised and shocked that Santana had revealed her the incident, but the blond seemed unfazed. "She said it was almost as good with me, but she doesn't like girls in that way. That's why she was crying all over the phone like that time Coach told her boob job wasn't good enough for her to be captain and that she wouldn't be flying anymore. I don't like it when she cries. It's scary. It's like a water explosion. When it happens, I don't really understand what she says 'cause her words are all slippery."

Rachel did her best to process the chaotic pile of information. Santana did enjoy the kiss they shared the previous night, but she obviously didn't feel nearly as close to her than she did to Brittany. Never had she told her anything about how she felt, but she did speak of them with the blond, even after months of not talking to her. She also wasn't exactly sure what to think of the fact that the Latina had spent the end of the night on the phone, weeping hysterically over what had happened. She could hardly picture it. It seemed somehow incongruous.

"I don't understand why she would be crying if she liked it."She stated after some time.

"She's scared." Brittany said. Her voice was suddenly softer, tender. "She's like my cat. She doesn't like when strangers get to close. I think she confuses people with evil gnomes like the one in my backyard. It's almost like she believes that everybody's planning to hurt her or something. It doesn't make any sense. Why would people do that? It would put them on Santa's naughty list and they wouldn't get any gifts for Christmas which totally sucks."

Rachel smiled at her. Brittany was endearing even if most of what she said was based on a logic that defied reality.

"You're so adorable!" She had the sudden urge to hug her. Brittany frowned and backed up a little when the singer tried to wrap her arms around her waist, pushing her hands away.

"Rachel..."She sighed. Her facial expression was suddenly very serious. "She likes you a lot and I don't like it 'cause it makes me feel weird in my stomach."

"Wait, Brittany, are you jealous? Do you have feelings for her? I thought you were in love with Artie" Rachel asked her.

Who would prefer someone as unbalanced and moody as Santana to Artie? He could offer to Brittany everything she could not. They had a stable relationship. He loved her. He cared for her. He protected her naivety from the dark reality of this world, while Santana used to egoistically drag her down the dangerous path of debauchery. She was a vile self-centered person who found pleasure into destroying everything around her on her to self-devastation.

"Well, yeah...We were best friends. Best friends always love each other very much, don't they? Like it's not that I don't love Artie, I love him so much. He's my boyfriend, but I miss her 'cause she was always there and now she's not. She's always with you, but I can't be, like, jealous. It wouldn't be fair for her so I'm not jealous. I'm just sad."

"You shouldn't be sad Brittany." Rachel told her with sincerity. She truly believed that it was better for her to stay away from the wild brunette. Nothing good could come out of it.

"San, she- she doesn't really like to like people. And I-"She exhaled with difficulty and bit her lip."I think I've hurt her a lot so it's even harder for her than before. What I'm trying to say is: try not to make it worst. Promise me you'll take care of her."

The blue eyes staring into Rachel's were very alert, piercing, which made her wonder if Brittany was as truly innocent as she was letting on. Rachel chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to make up a reply. It was one thing to lie and be mean to cruel people, but this was entirely different. Brittany was a loving and caring friend, filled with good intentions...But there was no other way to escape from this, besides she was doing it for Brittany's own good.

"I promise. I'll do my best not to hurt her." Brittany's eyes narrowed as if she was evaluating her reply.

"Pinkie swear?" She extended the small finger forward. Rachel intertwined her finger with Brittany's.

"Pinkie swear." She answered back, swallowing with difficulty.

"Good." Brittany smiled childishly and gave a quick peck on Rachel's shamefully crimson cheek. She stood up, stretched her arms over her head. Her gaze was lost in another world. When she spoke again her voice seemed to come from a faraway distance. It was a barely audible murmur. "If you ever happen to forget the promise you gave me, I'll be there to remind it to you."


	19. hatred is blind

Sorry for the time it took to update (Finals)

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"Hatred is blind, as well as love." Oscar Wilde

When Rachel entered the choir room at the end of the day, she immediately felt that something was different. A heavy silence was filling the room. Finn and Puck were sitting in the back row. Their eyes were on the ceiling and they seemed profoundly bored. It was nothing unusual. Lauren was next to them, eating skittles. Mike was next to Tina, looking straight in front of him, waiting for everybody to arrive. Tina was bent forward, giggling, and gossiping with Mercedes. They were both giving side looks to Sam who was standing against the wall, looking forlornly at Quinn. That was when Rachel noticed how distant they were from one another.

"Why is Sam sitting so far away from Quinn?" Rachel whispered to Mercedes as she sat on a chair next to her.

"Haven't you heard?" Mercedes replied a bit too loudly. "Quinn broke up with him."

Rachel glanced at the head cheerleader and their eyes met briefly. There was no doubt that Quinn had been listening to their exchange. The blond girl's stare was now set on her notebook on which she appeared to be sketching a Sue Sylvester caricature. Rachel took note of how similar the drawing was to the one she had discovered on the backseat of the Cheerio's bus. Of course, that particular caricature did not represent their coach; it was an unflattering portrait of Rachel. It had been made a long time ago. Their relationship had evolved a lot since then, but it still hurt every time Rachel laid eyes on it.

"Faster Artie! Faster!" Brittany and Artie wheeled their way into the room. The tall girl seemed much better than earlier. She sported a childish grin on her face and was looking at her boyfriend in an amorous way. They rolled their way to the side and Brittany jumped off her ride. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him one quick last kiss on the cheek before taking place on a seat right behind him. Rachel smiled at the sight. She was glad to see that their little conversation had paid off and that Brittany was able to recognize how lucky she was to have such a loving boyfriend at her side.

Mr. Schuester entered a few seconds later and closed the door behind him. He started to explain the assignment of the week and Rachel barely listened. She didn't want anyone to know how she felt, she kept everything to herself, it wasn't safe to show glimpses of herself, and sang mostly only to herself at home. She didn't feel free to be herself in glee club anymore. She was too lost for that.

Someone knocked at the door and, before someone could react, Santana barged into the room. She was out of her cheerleading uniform which made it clear that she had spent the entire day ditching class. She was wearing boyfriend jeans that were hanging loosely around her hips and a tight soft beige blouse patterned with very small triangles of various colors. Her heels were impossibly high which, to someone as small as Rachel, made her seem incredibly tall. Her hair was tied in a mid-low ponytail and straight bangs were shading her eyes which made her even harder to read than usual. She was wearing makeup, a massive amount of makeup. Her foundation made it impossible to see any flaws in her face which made her seem alien, emotionless: inhuman. Her lips were shiny and almost viscous under the amount of lip-gloss covering them. Around her right wrist was a silver chain- a friendship bracelet- that Rachel hadn't seen in months. It matched perfectly the one Brittany had never stopped wearing around her own. The singer's heartbeat quickened anxiously when she recognized it.

"Thank you for joining us Santana," Mr Schuester said, breaking the silence provoked by her sudden appearance. "I'm glad you could make it. I heard you were sick. I hope that singing with us will make you feel better."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever…" Santana glanced at her teacher and rolled her eyes before giving a circular look around the room. Her eyes fell on the only free chair, between Quinn and Rachel, her usual spot. She scowled, crossed her arms over her chest, and walked towards her seat, her hips swaying proudly under her steps.

Quinn swiftly shifted her body toward the brunette and whispered something to her. Rachel tried to decipher what she was saying, but the head cheerleader was muffling the sound of voice with her hands in a way that made it impossible for anyone that wasn't Latina to hear. Santana smirked and snorted.

"Really?" She asked, sounding deeply amused. Quinn nodded vigorously before pulling back, giggling and gently nibbling her bottom lip under her friend's mocking gaze.

Rachel's heart sank. She felt left out. She should probably have worked more on gaining Quinn's friendship, but the head Cheerio was even hard to approach than Santana. She was cold and calculating. She wasn't as gratuitously mean as the dark brunette, but she chose her friends in a very selective manner. No matter how hard Rachel tried, she never seemed to be able to fall into this category. It wasn't that she wanted to befriend the other girl. She was just uncomfortable to know that Santana had a relationship with someone that fell completely out of her control. She also disliked the fact that –while completely ignoring her- the Latina was giving so much attention to her other friend.

Rachel sighed and tried to focus on Mr. Schuester who was gesturing in exaggerated motions in front of the group, but all she could hear was her two classmates murmuring to one another. She felt like interrupting them to point out how rude they were. The slight noise they were making was buzzing in her ear in a way that was deeply irritating. Her frustration was growing by the minute and was feeling like running away from the room, away from the horrible feeling emerging in the pit of her stomach. She didn't notice that she had been subconsciously scratching her right arm until Mercedes grabbed her hand to stop her.

"What the hell are you doing?" The black girl told her and Rachel's gaze dropped on the dark red patch across her skin.

Everybody turned towards them and the singer blushed under their stare. Santana nervously glanced her way for the first time that day before looking away and Rachel felt her heart stop.

"I think I have a rash. I must be allergic to something." The words came out of her mouth awkwardly.

Her declaration was followed by an uneasy silence. Then, Mr. Shuester cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to himself and everything was forgotten. At least, the two Cheerios had stopped talking. Their moment had been broken and they were now both staring at the front. Quinn had her limbs wrapped around the legs of her chair. Her feet were pointing gracefully to the back and a crooked smile was twisting the corner of her mouth. Santana's eyebrows were furrowed. Her feet were tapping at an irregular rhythm on the floor. She seemed to be chewing her cheeks alternatively and her hands were gripping the sides of her chair.

Rachel hated this situation. It was beyond awkward. She probably shouldn't have made that move the previous day. It was too early. Santana did not trust her and their seemed to be no way to cross the sudden gap between them. As subtly as she could, Rachel tried to move her chair closer to her. The darker girl noticed it and her features hardened. The singer waited until the Latina's attention was to the front before attempting anything else. When Santana's expression seemed to relax a bit, Rachel extended her fingers, separating the distance between her hand and the other girl's, and grazed it shyly. Santana's grip on her chair grew so hard that her knuckles turned white. Rachel took a deep breath. She stayed still until she was certain that the other brunette wouldn't pull away from her touch and when it seemed sure that she wouldn't do so she let her finger's gently brush the back of the caramel hand. Santana's mouth twitched nervously and her body stiffened. She closed her eyes for a second or two before slowly opening them and turning her gaze towards Rachel. The singer gaped, flushed, and her heart stammered anxiously against her chest. She was surprised, shocked, by the large amount of struggling emotions reflected in the other girl's stare. Fear was the most preeminent of them all. Rachel gulped and her eyes grew wide.

For a second, she almost forgot how much she hated the girl in front of her.

For a second, she almost forgot where she was and why she was there.

For a second, she lost herself in that terror and it almost became her own.

Santana looked away, breaking the spell. Rachel shook her head, trying to erase those fearful brown eyes from her mind, and tried her best to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall of her own. Her vision became blurry. She didn't want to know that fear existed. It scared her because it shouldn't have. She chased her tears away with a swift hand motion and her gaze shifted anxiously around the room. She caught a flash of blue and had to hold back a gasp. Brittany had been studying them all along. Rachel shuttered at the thought of the expressionless stare she knew was set on her. She sniffed and Santana's soft hand suddenly shifted under her own. Rachel felt the Latina's index wrap around her own to squeeze it reassuringly. Cold metal pressed against her wrist. Rachel looked down to find Santana's friendship bracelet brushing against her skin. She glanced back at Brittany.

The dreamy girl was smiling in a strange kind of way.


	20. Paranoia

"This is a do-it-yourself test for paranoia: you know you've got it when you can't think of anything that's your fault." Robert M. Hutchins

Rachel was beginning to wonder if her list of enemies had grown. Between Brittany's blue stare and Quinn's whispers, she was starting to find that her relationship with Santana was sliding out of her control. If there was something Rachel hated more than not being the center of attention, it was not to feel in control of a situation.

She had spent another sleepless night, staring at her ceiling, wondering how she would manage these new people antagonizing her plan. She ended up flicking her light open and pulling out a notebook from the drawer of her nightstand. She poured her heart down on its white pages, writing the lyrics of a song meant for only her to hear. She wrote and wrote until the sun came up. Her tiredness was making her sick and she was feeling like throwing up. With time things were getting more complicated, too complicated, so complicated that it made Rachel feel nauseated.

Starless nights were more beautiful to her than the ones where the sky was illuminated by sparkling stones because only when the world was plunged into dark did it mirrored Rachel's thoughts. Star she was not, she had never been, and she would never be. She was a grain of sand lost on an endless beach. She would almost drown every time the night's ocean tide of sadness would wash over her body, but it was never enough to kill her. Every morning, the sun would always dry her up, leaving her seemingly unstained by her pain. Nobody would notice how hard she struggled to breathe and it didn't matter to her. It was better that way.

Rachel pulled out her cheerleading uniform from her closet and covered her face with a mask of beauty products.

When Rachel arrived into the locker room that morning, Santana was its only occupant. She had probably decided to come abnormally early to compensate the fact that she had missed practice the previous day. Her eyes were full of her sleep and her face was free of makeup. At the sound of the door opening, she squinted in Rachel's direction and grunted something that sounded like a "hi".

Rachel sat next to her, pressing her bare leg purposely against the other girl's. Santana stared at her from under a half-hooded stare. Her brown eyes were soft, tired, left completely unprotected by their lack of disguise. Her pulpy lips were dry, chapped, and almost seemed vulnerable. She seemed prettier or uglier- depending on who was looking- that way.

"Brittany and I used to meet up super early at school to make out in here before the others would come." She said in a low raspy voice, her breath tickling Rachel's cheek and her eyes opening a little to set free a contemplative stare.

Rachel blushed, unused to be talked in such a way by the Latina. She was also surprised because for the first time Santana had acknowledged her past relationship with Brittany.

"Weren't you scared...you'd get caught?" Rachel asked and she had to clear her throat for the words to properly come out of her mouth.

"Yeah...I was scared shitless." Santana whispered breathily, her gaze on the singer's lips. "It was part of the kick. It was, like, breaking the rules in the last place we should have. It made it twice as good."

Rachel had to blink herself out of the other girl's spell. She did not understand how the Latina did it, how her strange charisma seemed to easily envelop people into a world of confusion and wake up in people's body an artificial need to be desired by her. She was a vicious version of Venus or her son, Eros, embodied by a lust consumed woman.

Santana chuckled.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, her face leaning closer, and her dark brown eyes peering into her own.

"Kissing you," answered Rachel, trying to beat the darker brunette at her own game.

Santana caught her bottom lip under a row of white teeth.

"mmhm...Yeah?"She said, quirking an eyebrow and letting out a throaty laugh.

"Yeah," Rachel replied with firmness.

Santana anxiously rolled her bottom lip with her teeth before releasing it to take a sharp breath. She cautiously approached the other girl, her gaze flickering from Rachel's mouth to her eyes. She paused at a hair distance from the other girl's lips, gulped, smiled shakily, and hesitantly, almost shyly, kissed Rachel, lingering a little before pulling back. Her tanned cheeks had taken a dark shade of red and her gaze was darting in every direction but the other brunette's face. Rachel was surprised by how innocent the kiss had been. She had expected something more forceful, demanding, with grasping hands, but there was none of that. Even Finn had never kissed her in that way and Rachel was almost angry at Santana for being so reserved.

"You lips are dry." Rachel stated a bit more harshly than intended.

Santana scowled and got up on her feet. Only then, Rachel realized her mistake. She caught the other girl's arm before she could walk away.

"Wait," she yelped, almost desperately. She tried to cover her frustration with some lies. "I'm sorry San, I'm so sorry. I really don't know why I said that. It's just- I thought- I was- I was expecting something else. I was under the impression you were was attracted to me as much as I am to you and, when you pulled back so quickly, I thought that I had maybe foolishly imagined everything. Please, give me a chance. I'm new to this. I've never kissed a girl before you and it scares me. I'm terribly insecure about it. I make all of these scenarios in my head and-"

"Stop rambling!" Santana yelled suddenly, unhooking her arm from Rachel's hand, and bringing both of her hands to her temples. "It's so freaking annoying."

She sat in front of Rachel, crossed her arms over chest, and studied her in silence. Her eyes were filled with rage. They were searching for answers Rachel was certain she would not find. The Latina's stare wasn't nearly as piercing as usual. It was sincere, angry, but sincere. Rachel's eyes were the one wearing a mask and it was made of so many layers that even the singer could not tell true from the false. After a time, Santana sighed and looked away, breaking the tension, and the singer knew she had won.

Rachel stood up. She bent forward and used her right hand to gently lift Santana's chin.

"I'm sorry," she reiterated, smiling guiltily.

Santana did not reply. Instead, she wordlessly stared at her. Rachel knew most of her anger had dissipated, but she needed to wash it completely away. The singer pulled Santana into a kiss almost as soft as the one the Latina had given her just a moment before but much more insistent and long. Santana's arms uncrossed from her chest and wrapped around the other girl's waist, pulling her forward. Rachel's calves hit the bench and she almost fell unto Santana's laps. She broke their kiss and giggled against the Latina's cheek before climbing on the bench to straddle her thighs. After settling herself in this new position, she cupped Santana's jaw with her hands and kissed her again. The darker brunette gasped against her mouth. To play this role was much easier than Rachel had thought. It was so empowering.

"It's been such a long time since I-" Santana stopped on her trail. Rachel inched backwards, waiting for more, but the only sound coming out of the Latina's was the one of her shaky breath.

Santana tried to lean forward to resume their kiss but Rachel's hands held her back.

"Since you what?" Santana frowned, her eyes staring longingly at Rachel's lips.

"Nothing..." She whispered.

"What?" Rachel insisted, speaking in a soothing voice.

"Since I felt this way," Santana completed the earlier sentence with her eyes to the ground. She brought her hand to her ear as though she was trying to readjust her hair, but since it was already neatly pulled into a ponytail, she settled on toying nervously with her earring. Her silver bracelet was dancing under the light. "Do you- Do you have, like, butterflies when you kiss me?"

Rachel could hear the drumming of her own heart in her ears. It was not supposed to be like this. Santana wasn't supposed to sound sweet and fragile. She was a ruthless predatory bisexual girl. She was completely insensible to her lovers' feelings. Most of her actions were driven by her highly active libido. Santana was starting to fidget under her stare and Rachel had no choice but to answer.

"Yes," she replied. Santana was probably trying to do some weird power play. There was no way she could be so insecure. Then, she thought of it. Maybe Brittany knew Rachel was up to something which was why she was giving her all those looks and maybe she had told Santana. This could explain the other girl's innocent manners.

Footsteps resonated down the hallway. Rachel jumped off Santana and sat back to her previous spot. Her eyes shifted nervously towards the door.

"Hello world!" Brittany screamed as she stepped into the room. "Hi Rachel! Hi Santana!"

"Britt, no shouting at this hour, please." Santana growled and rolled her eyes. "You know how much I hate it."

"I know, I know, grumpy missy." Brittany answered before seating next to Rachel. She gave a little scolding tap on Santana's nose. The Latina scowled at the touch, but the blond ignored it completely. "So, like, did you two kiss again like I said you should do?"

The silence that followed was interrupted by a loud slapping noise. Brittany intercepted Santana's hand while it was pulling away from her reddening thigh. She held it firmly.

"I know you didn't want to hit that hard but it kind of hurts." Santana tried to wriggle her hand out of her grasp, but Brittany stood up, caught the brunette's other arm, and pinned them both behind her back. "Say you're sorry."

Santana giggled, her body writhing under Brittany's strong hold.

"Stop!"She squealed, her cheeks turning crimson, and her eyes shining like the ones of a child.

"Not until you say you're sorry."Brittany replied, trying to sound threatening, but failing miserably at it.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry Brittz" Santana replied, laughing loudly, in an almost carefree way. Brittany released her but didn't let go of her hand. She sat back at her place.

"So..."The blond girl trailed off, looking at Rachel. "Did you two kiss again?"

Rachel glanced at the Latina. Santana had lost her smile and was now staring at her caramel fingers intertwined with Brittany's paler ones.

"Yes, we did." The singer replied.

"I think Santana has a lady crush on you." Brittany told her teasingly.

"Britt, shut up, I'm not gay." Santana sneered.

"I'm not gay either and I get lady crushes all the time and Rachel too. She totally has a lady crush on you. Don't you Rachel?" Rachel nodded uncertainly and Brittany pursued. "See! It's like super normal to have lady crushes. There's like totally no reason to cry about it...if ever, you know, someone felt like crying about it. Not that anybody does."

"'Kay, Britt, we got it."

Rachel's eyes darted from one girl to the other, wondering exactly in one world did these notoriously promiscuous girls live in. She brought her feet up on the bench in front of her. She was uncomfortable. How strangely coincidental was it that their friendship had seemed to be renewed just after Rachel had decided to kiss Santana.

She had to admit that she was starting to wonder if the two girls were playing a game with her. After all, Rachel was pretending, why wouldn't they be doing it too?

Maybe Quinn was in it too...Maybe Quinn was still doing drawings of her in her notebooks and they were all making fun of her behind her back...maybe Santana was repeating to her two friends every single word Rachel would tell her.

What if Santana and Brittany were never even attracted to one another?

Maybe they had waited to be sure that Rachel would see them kiss to do so...Maybe they had planned it all along.

What if everything she thought was real was not and she was the one being played?

The only thing Rachel knew for sure was that she was about to enter a world ruled by madness.


	21. if you tame me, then we shall need each

"I am looking for friends. What does that mean - tame?'

It is an act too often neglected,' said the fox. 'It means to establish ties.'

To establish ties?'

Just that,' said the fox. 'To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..." Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Rachel was revolted yet fascinated by how human Santana was. The darker brunette had become much softer toward her in the past few days. She was much more vulnerable. She would still explode in rage now and then, but with the help of Brittany Rachel had found new ways to prevent Santana from showcasing her hot temper. Not only was she starting to crack down Santana's shell, she was making interesting discoveries about her enemy, and most importantly she was getting closer to her.

If Santana's relationship with Brittany seemed to be very helpful to Rachel, it was not the same of her relationship with Quinn. Even though the Cheerio captain was polite to her, she was also very distant. Their friendship was becoming a strong obstacle to Rachel's plan because she had no control over it. Therefore, she did not know how it would affect her future interactions with Santana.

Rachel couldn't stop thinking about it. She did not know how to get of rid of Quinn. The two girls had spent months without talking. Why did they have to rekindle their friendship at that moment in time? Rachel couldn't stand seeing them walking side by side down the hallway or whispering secrets into each other's ears. She had to find a way to break their friendship up. It shouldn't have been that hard.

Still, she had no idea how.

On another matter, after months of spending time at Santana's house, she finally caught a glimpse of her relationship with her parents. Until then they had seem completely absent of their daughter's life. They never seem to be there and Santana never talked about them.

One day, as they were entering Santana's house, Rachel heard some loud talking coming from down the corridor. She was going to ask about it to the other girl when Santana pressed a finger to her mouth enjoining her to silence. Her dark brown eyes flickered nervously from Rachel to the direction from where the voices were coming. She motioned one of her hand towards the ceiling.

"Go to my room," she mouthed and she ushered her towards the staircase.

"Wait there," she whispered into her ear. "It shouldn't be long."

Shocked by Santana's apparent anxiety, Rachel didn't even think of questioning her and did as told. She walked up the stairs as silently as she could but curiosity took the best of her. When Santana was out of view, Rachel stretched over the ramp and tried to catch morsels of the conversation that was taking place a bit further down the hall. In a strange mix of Spanish and English was speaking two vibrant voices. A third one, much more discreet, joined them after a while. Even though Santana was speaking in a tone that was very different from her usually defiant way of talking, it was easy for Rachel to recognize her. Santana was speaking in such a low voice that Rachel was barely able to make out what she is saying. She caught a few words here in there but nothing that could help her understand what caused this sudden switch in her classmate's behaviour.

"I'm going to go get it upstairs," Rachel heard Santana say.

Afraid she would be caught in her indiscretion, she ran the last few steps, across the wooden floor, and into the Latina's room. There she jumped on the bed, pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Her hands started running subconsciously up and down her calves in a nervous motion. She was on edge. Her nails were raking her skin and her heart was pounding loudly in her chest. She was trying not to look too suspicious.

Santana entered the room swiftly. She didn't even glance at Rachel. Her step was quick and her red skirt was flowing against her thighs. Her eyes were wide with obvious apprehension.

"What's going on?" Rachel asked.

"There's this binder where I keep all my tests. They want to see it."

Santana sighed, opened a few desk drawers, found what she was looking for, walked out of the room, and closed the door with a loud bang.

She came back a while later looking defeated. She dropped face down unto the bed, right next to Rachel, and growled into a pillow. The sound of screeching tires reached Rachel's ear. Santana's parents were gone. They were alone again.

They stayed in complete silence for a while. Rachel was observing the motionless form on the bed, wondering what had just happened. She could guess by the few hints that she had had that Santana's parents were not only very absent but probably also very exigent. Was there more to it? She had no idea, but it was obvious that this difficult relationship was affecting the Latina.

Rachel crawled towards the unmoving body and extended her hand forward to remove the dark locks that were hiding Santana's face. She cautiously pulled away a damp strand of hair that was following the brunette's cheekbone and sticking to her mouth. The Latina's eyes were tightly shut and it was obvious that she had been crying.

Rachel brushed her fingers down the other girl's cheek and travelled gently across her skin to settle on the nape of her neck. She lied down and pressed their foreheads together, running her fingers through Santana's hair in a gesture that was meant to be comforting.

"Your parents seem pleasant," she whispered sarcastically after a moment.

Santana chuckled slightly. Her lashes fluttered open. Rachel smiled when she noticed that they were decorated with small pearls of water. Santana cleared her throat as if she was about to say something but no words came out. Instead, she curled on herself and her dark brown orbs searched Rachel with curiosity, with honesty, and with an obvious need to be reassured. She looked so small, like a child seeking to be hold.

Rachel almost laughed at the sight. This Santana was far from the girl she had once feared so much. She thought of herself month ago curled in her bed in the exact position Santana was in because of something the Latina had said to her. She thought of all the people that had been in that same position because of her. Santana had hurt so much people. She had no reason to take pity of her situation.

Rachel gave Santana a tender smile and snaked her arms around her waist to pull her against her chest. A few seconds later, Santana was clinging unto her almost desperately. Rachel felt her sighing in the crook of her neck. She closed her eyes and swallowed thickly. She was feeling highly uncomfortable. She had never really comforted someone before and she never thought that one day she would be trying to comfort her worst tormentor.

She rubbed awkward circles on her back. She could feel that Santana's body was tense but could tell that it was probably much less stiff than her own. Everything was getting so complicated and even in the quietness of the moment, Rachel couldn't stop thinking about Quinn.

"Thanks Rachel. You're a really good friend." Santana mumbled against her neck before shifting into a more comfortable position against her.

Rachel didn't reply but she took Santana's hand into her own and squeezed it firmly. She felt the Latina relax into her embrace.

"I'm happy to be there for you San," she said after a moment of peaceful silence.

Then, Rachel's thoughts drifted towards Quinn. She had to do something to undermine their relationship. She curled one of Santana's dark lock around one of her fingers and kissed her on the forehead. The darker brunette giggled slightly and looked up at her. Rachel smiled when she saw how adoring those eyes were

"I hate to be the one telling you this but you should be more careful with whom you decide to spend your time with."

Santana frowned at her words and propped herself up on her elbow to look at Rachel. Her puffy eyes were expressing annoyance and confusion. Her cheeks were still red from her earlier break down. She didn't seem receptive at all.

"What do you mean?"

Rachel hesitated a little, but she realized that she couldn't back away in front of Santana's awaiting gaze. She closed her eyes and a shaky breath escaped her mouth as she tried to find her words.

"Quinn," she started but anxiety took over body. She should have thought about what to say earlier. She should have rehearsed it. Now she did not know what to say.

"What about her?" Santana asked a bit aggressively, throwing her hair behind her shoulder in an abrupt motion.

"Don't you think she's a bit of a hypocrite? And she did steal your spot as captain at the beginning of the current school year."

Santana shrugged her shoulders and laid her head back down on the pillow.

"Is that all?" she asked with a bit of exasperation creeping into her voice. When she realized there would be no reply to her question, Santana rolled on stomach, picked up her cell phone, and started texting.

"Who are you texting to?" Rachel asked innocently.

"Quinn." Santana replied bluntly.

Rachel sat up.

"What? Why?"

Santana huffed before answering: "None of your business."

Rachel felt panic rising into her chest at the sudden wedge her words had seem to create between Santana and her. Her dislike for Quinn was starting to take disproportional proportions.

"San?" Rachel said as softly as she could, but Santana didn't even bother to glance at her.

She hated those moments.

"San?" She tried again.

Rachel sighed. Her relationship with Santana was exhaustingly frustrating. It was so hard to deal with the other girl's temperament. She stared at the Latina fingers as she typed replies to Quinn's messages at a very furious pace.

Rachel bit her bottom lip, trying to think at what Brittany would have done in this situation. Unlike her, Brittany was not much of a talker so she obviously did not use that kind of approach. She would probably have made some adorably innocent face. Rachel furrowed her eyebrows. It probably wouldn't have agreed with her. Instead, she tried her own way to be endearing. She walked her fingers across Santana's back over the red fabric of her cheerleading outfit. She scooted a little bit closer to the Latina and gave a small peck on her cheek.

"What are you doing?" Santana asked, turning her head towards her.

"I'm right here next to you and you're not paying attention to me," Rachel whispered before leaning towards her enemy, nuzzling her nose, and kissing her lightly on the mouth.

Santana's features softened a little and a small smile played on her lips.

"Rach, you've got to realize that I really don't like when you're dissing my friends like that." Rachel nodded and lowered her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

Santana got up on her knees and tied her hair up in a ponytail. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and wiped the mascara under her eyes with her thumb before crawling out of the bed.

"My parents left some money. What'd you say we order some food?" She asked as she stood near the door with her hand on her hips.

"That would be great," Rachel replied with a smile, relieved to see that she was starting to be better at handling Santana's mood shifts.


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's note :**

Hello everyone, I'm just writing this note to warn you that I won't be able to update this fiction for the next two week because I will be working at a summer camp/be lost in the middle of nowhere. I won't have any access to a computer. I will try to write a few chapters down in my free time and post them when I'll be back.

I'm sorry


	23. Message

Hi! I know I've been away for a very long while. I was going mhm through some things...

If I'm writing this message today it's because I'm thinking of finishing this story...but I was just wondering before if people were still willing to read it.

If it's the case please send me a message either on my other account (it's connected to the e-mail I currently use the most):

Salerate

Or on my tumblr:

Thatawkwardllamasblog

I'll obviously won't bother replying to any insults. -.-"

(the links can both be found on my profile)

I'd also like to know if someone would like to be my beta. .


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